


The Road to Recovery is Paved with Bad Intentions

by vriskabby



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Deepthroating, Dubious Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, Fist Fights, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jealousy, Love Triangles, M/M, Masochism, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Obsessive Behavior, Partying, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Platonic Cuddling, Porn With Plot, Roommates, Slutty Ouma, Tongue Piercings, Truth or Dare, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, emo saihara, im fucked up sorry, this is pretty much an american au but im still gonna use honorifics cuz im a weeb, this will most likely end with saiouma, yandere amami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-03-08 08:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 130,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13454856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vriskabby/pseuds/vriskabby
Summary: Amami Rantaro has been best friends with Ouma since Elementary School.Ouma Kokichi has been in love with Amami ever since he realized he liked boys.Saihara Shuuichi just wanted a normal fucking roommate.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading my first (posted) fic! I love Ouma so much so pretty much all of this will be from his perspective! 
> 
> I'm a little new to this so Kudos/comments/feedback is super appreciated :) 
> 
> In that 8 year time gap between the first and second scene, a lot has happened to Ouma, it'll all be revealed in due time! 
> 
> Also, a couple things about context; This story takes place after high school obviously, so a lot of the things that happen as far as character development in the game can be assumed to have already taken place, albeit not everyone was in the same class or even the same school in this world. (Ex: Kaito's illness' progression, Shuichi ditching his hat, ect.) Also the university they are attending is not really like HPA too much, their goal is to cultivate talent but they accept applications and will take more than just 1 student of each talent. It's much more akin to a regular university.
> 
> Also it should be noted that this fic will progress into Explicit sexual content, as well as some disturbing imagery/dialogue, if you're okay with that then continue onward! 
> 
> One last thing; the way kokichi looks in this fic is based almost entirely off his beta design, specifically this one: 
> 
> https://pm1.narvii.com/6466/f6bf634bfcf203cb2a0af2251a9c35fa5c701a8c_hq.jpg

Ouma Kokichi wants to be with Amami Rantaro.

That was something even a liar like him could never deny.

It had been a hot summer day when they first met. That moving truck pulled up on the curb next to his house, and out jumped a slim boy who landed gracefully on the sidewalk. Their eyes met. The mystery boy immediately beamed an overly enthused smile at the dark haired boy who was currently armed with nothing but a cheap, dollar store water gun and a grimace. In hindsight, the other boy was probably thrilled to have instantly met another kid his own age as soon as he moved in. Little did the unassuming stranger know that he was in for a stream of water straight to the face. Kokichi thought it was hilarious; his parents did not. 

Kokichi was startled by a yelp heard from behind him, unmistakably his mother, as she dashed towards her young son while stuttering apologies. She had begun explaining this and that about how Ouma was a good boy, really, he just has a hard time making friends. Kokichi rolled his eyes at being talked about as if he wasn't standing right there. His gaze settled back on the boy he had recently assaulted with H2O, and he decided to really take a look at him. He was probably in the 5th grade or so, same year as Kokichi, he had eyelashes that had no business being so long, and the strangest green hair color Kokichi had ever seen. Kokichi decided he was decently normal looking, despite the two stray hairs that stuck up on his head so conspicuously that Kokichi couldn't stifle his small giggle.  His mother looked mortified at the sound that escaped his lips, as she had just finished her heartfelt speech on how sorry Ouma was. He wasn't. 

Finally, the green-haired boy spoke, 

"Ah...no, It's all good! Really, I'm fine. It's just water after all! My name is Rantaro Amami, by the way, what's yours?" 

 His tone was sickeningly optimistic despite Ouma making himself clear he wasn't interested in a friendship. Kokichi decided he wasn't done playing with this boy just yet. 

 "But what if I told you it wasn't water?" 

 "Huh?" The boy looked dumbfounded by Kokichi's response, and his mother looked like she had all but given up on him as usual. It was great. 

 "You said it was just water, but that's a lie, see? It's actually filled with piss!" 

 "Watch your mouth, Kokichi!" His mother gave him a swift backhand to the face, it didn't really hurt anything but his pride though. 

 "Woah there! No need to be so serious, right Rantaro-chan? I'm pretty sure that was just a joke. There's no reason to be upset." An unfamiliar female continued to speak honeyed words about friendship and getting along, while his mother lapped up everything as an excuse for her son's shitty behavior. Kokichi shifted his gaze to the voice and saw a young woman who stood only a few inches above Amami and claimed to be his mother or something, Kokichi didn't really care, he was growing bored of these interactions and itched for stimulation. And then his wish was granted.

 It had been like something out of a circus act; a long black limousine pulled up beside the moving van and one by one, a ridiculous number of girls started to pile out. All of them, every last one, had the same ridiculous avocado colored hair and twin ahoges. For once in his short life, Ouma Kokichi was at a loss for words. He hadn't even realized his jaw had dropped and his eyes had widened until he was snapped back to reality by a small chuckle from Rantaro himself. 

 "Ah... Those are my sisters, pretty crazy right? I have 9 so far, and mom says more are on the way! That's kind of... why I was so excited to see another guy. Sorry if I came off as weird or anything, I hope we can really be friends." He extended a hand towards Kokichi. Something came over the smaller boy and before he knew it his hand met Rantaro's. Kokichi decided Rantaro was decidedly not so boring.

That was 8 years ago, and the beginning of the closest friendship Kokichi had ever had.

 

And then there was Shuichi Saihara. 

An apprentice detective that he just so happened to share a dorm space with at the prestigious Hope's Peak University. It was a school that accepted only the best of the best in terms of talent, in order to cultivate youth. Ouma had been accepted due to his knack for leadership, or so they said. He preferred to see himself as a more talented liar than anything else. So that was why being roomed with someone who liked to sniff out the truth had intrigued him so much. He wondered nonchalantly if he would be any match for him. _How exciting._

But like most things in Ouma's life up until now, he was met with disappointment. As he arrived at his room number, he flung the door open haphazardly, earning a yelp from the boy inside who he assumed to be his roommate. He wore a black suit with a blue tie and had strikingly long eyelashes complimenting his golden eyes. He had been huddled over on the floor, unpacking a small black suitcase that was only big enough to fit the essentials. Barely a carry-on bag.

What a stick in the mud. 

Ouma hauled his bright purple suitcase that was practically as big as he was into the decent-sized room and plopped down on the floor next to his new roomie so they could be at eye-level. 

 "The name is Ouma Kokichi! As a supreme leader of evil, I'll be making your life a living hell for the next 4 years!" Ouma spouted in a wicked tone. 

 He wasn't really sure why he was like this. He had always had issues since he was a kid, but things had just seemed to snowball out of his control as he grew closer to adulthood. Ouma was always too over the top, too rude, too rash, and everyone hated him for it. 

 Well, almost everyone. 

 He had managed to form a group of, "like-minded individuals" over the years. He called them DICE. They were the best minio- err, friends, he could ever ask for. 

 This new roommate of his stared back at him with such a concerned look on his face that Ouma almost wanted to laugh, so he did. 

 "Nishishi~ That was just a lie! Don't look so scared, I'm sure we'll be  _best_ friends" Ouma said with a wry smile. 

 "O-oh, haha, I see. Well, nice to meet you Ouma-kun, my name is Shuichi Saihara, and I'm-" 

 "A detective! I know, I do my research... I was half expecting some old geezer smoking a pipe and wearing a dumb hat, but you're pretty cute for a detective"

 "O-oh, yeah! Uh, wait... what did you say? I think I misheard you." 

 "Probably!" Ouma smirked knowingly, not breaking eye contact with the cute detective in question. Saihara looked off to the side and blushed. How cute. Ouma wanted to pin him down and- 

 "A-anyway, I was just finishing unpacking now. If you want, you can come eat lunch with me and my friends?" Saihara asked so innocently. If only he knew what was on Ouma's own devious mind. A mischievous smile crept across the smaller boy's face. 

 "I would love to." Was all he replied.


	2. A Fresh Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading my first (posted) fic! I love Ouma so much so pretty much all of this will be from his perspective! 
> 
> I'm a little new to this so Kudos/comments/feedback is super appreciated :) 
> 
> In that 8 year time gap between the first and second scene, a lot has happened to Ouma, it'll all be revealed in due time! 
> 
> Also, a couple things about context; This story takes place after high school obviously, so a lot of the things that happen as far as character development in the game can be assumed to have already taken place, albeit not everyone was in the same class or even the same school in this world. (Ex: Kaito's illness' progression, Shuichi ditching his hat, ect.) Also the university they are attending is not really like HPA too much, their goal is to cultivate talent but they accept applications and will take more than just 1 student of each talent. It's much more akin to a regular university.
> 
> Also it should be noted that this fic will progress into Explicit sexual content, as well as some disturbing imagery/dialogue, if you're okay with that then continue onward! 
> 
> One last thing; the way kokichi looks in this fic is based almost entirely off his beta design, specifically this one: 
> 
> https://pm1.narvii.com/6466/f6bf634bfcf203cb2a0af2251a9c35fa5c701a8c_hq.jpg

Ouma followed diligently behind Saihara-chan as he led the smaller boy through the ins and outs of their new campus. Apparently Saihara did his research too.  It was unexpectedly helpful, considering Ouma had dived head-first into this whole 'college thing' as fast as possible if it meant getting away from his father. He turned into a real prick after his mom had bit the dust.

That being said, he was fucking lost. He had been lucky to find the dorm in the first place, but the numbering system was simplistic so he was able to figure it out. Having someone take the time to actually give him a tour of the place he would be calling home for 4 years was nice. He stared at Saihara's back, completely tuning out the lecture he was giving him about the history and heritage of the school. The detective wasn't actually that much taller than Ouma, so Ouma was surprised to see how broad his shoulders actually were. Saihara pointed off in the distance to some monument, and Ouma carefully studied his fingers. They were thin and long, and so well-kept. Ouma's mind started to wander off into questionable things before Saihara pulled him back to reality with his piercing golden eyes. 

 Ouma instantly snapped an innocent smile onto his face and gazed back at Saihara. 

 "Hm? Sorry I wasn't listening. I'm hungry Saihara-chan! I thought you promised me lunch." He whined. He wondered whether or not Mr. Cute Detective could see right through his bullshit.

 Saihara had a puzzled look on his face, as if deep in thought, but quickly collected his thoughts. 

 "Ah yes, sorry I got a little too caught up in the tour there. The dining hall is over this way." Saihara gestured towards a large building made mostly of glass. 

 After a short walk they arrived at the dining hall. It was pretty impressive. Multiple stories, lots of open space, high tech, and complete with several fast-food chains. Ouma decided this would do nicely. 

Saihara gestured over the multitude of dining options and asked with a smile where he would like to eat. 

 "Anywhere that sells Panta." He was a simple man with simple wants. 

 "Oh? Hm, I think McDonalds does, is that okay?" 

 At the mention of the energetic boy's favorite soda, he practically skipped ahead of Saihara to get into line. Saihara followed after him at his own pace with a smile. What a weirdo. Ouma couldn't take it any longer. 

 "Hey, so like, what's your deal anyway?" Ouma snapped. Saihara looked like a deer in the headlights. His reactions were pretty amusing, Ouma thought. 

 "My...deal?" 

 "Yeah, why're you being so buddy-buddy with me? We met like, an hour ago. You seem sketchy for being so kind to me. Could it be you just wanna get in my pants? Well you'd better take a number cause I'll have you know I'm actually in  _very_ high demand." 

 Ouma had tried. He had really tried. He wanted to see if he could pretend to not be such an obnoxious ass for at least a day or two before he began tormenting his victim.  He hated himself for this. For being unable to just shut his mouth and go with the flow. He'll probably never understand why he does these things to everyone.

 "Ouma-kun!?" Saihara was rightfully shocked by his brash words, so much so that he staggered back as if Ouma had pushed him. 

 "Yes, Saihara-chan?" He looked up at the stunned detective with his signature puppy dog eyes, pretending he had done nothing out of the ordinary at all. Needless to say, Saihara didn't fall for it. 

 "Why....would you even say something like that? I was just being polite. Sorry if I offended you somehow, I guess. I thought it would be nice to get along, that's all." Saihara turned his gaze to the floor, obviously a bit wounded by Ouma's sudden change of attitude. 

 Oops, Ouma went a bit too far, huh? 

 "Nishishi~ Don't be so serious, my beloved Saihara-chan! I was only lying, y'know?" He wasn't exactly sure what had possessed him to add that affectionate precursor to the detective's name, but somehow it felt like it fit. It was strange though, the only person he had ever called his beloved was-

  _Oh._

 Oops. 

 Ouma had forgotten something very important. 

 "Shit, you're boring me to death actually, so I don't even want my Panta anymore. See ya Saihara!" Ouma made a mad dash for the door he had only just come through, but something grabbed his wrist and stopped him in his tracks. 

 "Ouma-kun, wait! What's going on with you suddenly? Where are you goi-" Ugh, Ouma didn't have time for this! 

 "UGH! LET GO! I SAID I WAS LEAVING NOW, GOT IT!?"

 Ouma knows that he's making a scene, all eyes in the vicinity turned to them. Saihara gave him a slightly hurt and confused look before gently releasing his wrist. Ouma feels a pang of guilt in his chest. He went too far again. But he could worry about that later, now that Saihara's grip was gone he sprinted toward the door. As he was leaving he vaguely heard someone whispering something along the lines of  _'What's wrong with him?"_

 He wished he had an answer. 

 

- 

 

Ouma was a fast runner. He had plenty of practice back in middle school.

 He liked to tell himself it was hide and seek. That it was a game. 

 They would chase him around in groups of 3 usually, calling out expletives and cruel nicknames while Ouma waited with bated breath in his hiding spots for them to leave the room. 

 All because he discovered he liked boys. Because he had kissed Amami-chan. Because that vile bitch with the glasses took a picture. Because she spread it like wildfire. 

 Amami-chan. His beloved Amami-chan.

 He was the most beloved boy in school, and Ouma was the most hated. And yet, Amami-chan was always there for him. Never ashamed of him. So gentle with him. He loved Amami-chan. 

 But now Amami-chan was going to hate him. He broke his promise. He was supposed to be there by now. Ouma was truly panicking.

 He could see the football stadium from a mile away, so he didn't need any directions. And god, did it ever feel like running a mile. He sprinted inside the stadium, ducking skillfully under the arm of the security officer who tried to halt him. He could already hear the loud, upbeat music blaring from the field. He was too late. The opening ceremony had already started. 

 Rantaro Amami had been accepted into Hope's Peak University on a football scholarship. He gladly accepted in order to go to the same school as Ouma. He had his options, but the fact that he chose to follow him was  amazing. He wasn't even the best on the team, and yet he was always the most popular. He was gorgeous, all the girls wanted him. 

 Ah yes,  _girls._

 Every time they swooned and fawned all over him it made Ouma sick. He sometimes would trip them in the hallways or slip things into their food in the cafeteria just to make himself feel better. Deep down, he knows they hadn't done anything wrong. After all, Ouma wanted Amami-chan too. But it was just their existence that irked him. The fact that they were girls. 

 Thats right, because Rantaro Amami liked girls, only girls. 

 And Ouma was objectively _not_ a girl. What shitty luck. 

 Amami would always humor him though, that's why he was able to get close enough to have stolen a kiss from his lips. Amami would always let Ouma get close to him, because they were best friends, so why not? One day, in the throes of puberty, he had been just close enough to feel Amami's surprised breath against his lips. It was always, always a joke. But this time, just this once, Ouma had decided he didn't want to lie about his feelings anymore. He closed the gap in an awkward, nervous first kiss. Their teeth clacked together and Amami's eyes shot open wide. But he didn't push Ouma away, or call him disgusting. He made a soft noise of surrender against Ouma's tightly closed lips and gently closed his eyes. His lips were so, so soft, and a little chapped. Ouma dared to lick at Amami's lips, seeing if they would just open a bit and...It felt so right, all until he heard the camera shutter. 

 Ouma was ruined. Not that anyone really cared for him before, but now they glared daggers at him with such contempt in their vicious eyes. _Especially the girls._ But he didn't mind, Amami was his, and now everyone knew it. Except.... that was a lie. 

 Because Amami still liked girls. And everyone forgave him for what happened, or assumed Ouma had forced him somehow.  _As if._

 Ouma finally hit the metal bar that separated him from the football field. He was supposed to see Amami off before the ceremony, but he missed his chance. All because he was caught up playing with that detective. He made himself so sick sometimes. He frantically scanned the field with his eyes. All he could see was a ripped banner, confetti, and some cheerleaders still making their way back through a tunnel. 

 Oh my god. He missed the whole thing. 

 

-

 

Ouma sat on a bench outside the boy's locker room sipping on a Panta he bought from a vending machine. His face was completely calm and collected, no shred of evidence of the panic in his mind. Tall, muscular men made their exit a few at a time, usually meeting up with some cheerleaders Ouma assumed were their girlfriends. A few of the players walked by him with no interest, but many of them sneered at him or whispered amongst themselves. Subtle. 

 Ouma made no effort to hide the fact that he was gay. He didn't really give a shit who hated him for it. Plus, it was too obvious to hide anyways. From the way he dressed, walked, and talked,to his small stature, he was definitively gay. 

 Finally, he saw that characteristic green hair on his best friend out of the corner of his eye. Ouma beamed and jumped out of his seat, running straight into Amami-chan's arms. 

 "My beloved Amami-chan! You did so great today, sorry I was late, but I watched the whole thing!" Ouma lied. 

 Amami seemed a little taken aback by the sudden rush of affection, but not the least bit embarrassed or ashamed. Ouma snuggled closer and rested his head of Amami's shoulder as he looked up at him with stars in his eyes. Amami's slightly shocked expression melted into one of pure adoration. He loved being looked at like that. 

 "Kokichi! I was so worried, I tried to call and text but you must not have had your phone. You say you saw the whole thing right? That's not a lie is it?" Amami-chan tilted his head as he asked innocently. 

 "Of course not! Jeez, would I lie to my beloved Amami-chan?" Kokichi said with a sly grin. 

 Amami snorted and moved his hand on top of Ouma's head, ruffling his hair. 

 "Hey! I'll have you know I spent hours styling my hair and now you've just casually gone and fucked it all up!" Ouma shouted with insincere ferocity.

 "Oh please," Amami began, "We both know your hair is a gravity defying phenomenon that no human could ever create." 

 Ouma released his grip around Amami and took a step back to look at him. He was tall, almost an entire foot above him. His messy hair framed his gorgeous face nicely. He still had those two quirky pieces of hair that would never quite go down. He had long eyelashes and a face that made him look like some kind of playboy with how handsome he was. But he was too nice for that sort of thing. Amami had picked up some piercings overs the years too. They mainly decorated his ears, however Ouma had snuck glances at shining pieces of metal in more hidden places too. Namely, his tongue. What Ouma wouldn't do to find that particular piece of jewelry inside his mouth. 

But that was just lust talking. In reality, Ouma had given up on being an item with Amami years ago. Amami had several girlfriends over the years, many of them long-term. He hated their faces when Ouma would drag Amami away for "guy time." Speaking of girlfriends.... 

 "Rantaro! There you are!" A particularly beautiful girl came prancing over to land a kiss on Amami-chan's cheek. Her golden blonde hair slightly sweaty but still perfectly in place. She was a cheerleader. Her name was Akamatsu Kaede. Of all Amami-chan's insufferable girlfriends, Ouma hated her the least. 

 "Wow Kay-yay-day, you look like you just fucked the entire boy's basketball team, so sweaty!" Ouma teased. There was a bit of malice in his words, but no one could ever seem to detect it, playing his remarks off as bad people skills or something.

 "Ouma! First of all, it's  _Kaede_ , you know that! Secondly, I'd much rather have just fucked the entire GIRLS basketball team, thank you very much." Kaede replied sweetly. 

 Ah, now he remembered why he kind of liked her, she bit back. 

 "Ooooooh, sounds like a good time. NOT. I'd rather eat lead." Ouma replied with a huge grin that was inappropriate for the words coming out of his mouth. 

 "Okay, okay you two, settle down! Kokichi-kun, how did you find your dorm? Sorry I couldn't be there guide you." Ouma was smug at the fact that Amami had turned his attention to him instead of Akamatsu-san. It was always like this with the three of them, a silly game of tug-of-war. 

 "Aww, thanks! My beloved is so sweet. I found it on my own though, cause I'm not brain-dead of course. I even met my totally-secretly-a-serial-killer roommate! His name was... Shuichi or something?" 

 "Eh!? Shuichi Saihara? No way! I know him, we used to be super close!" Akamatsu chirped in.

 "Uh oh, Amami-chan, sounds like competition to me!" Ouma snickered. Amami reacted by putting his hand behind his head and shrugging slightly. He was confident enough to not get jealous. Lucky. 

 "Ugh that's not it, Ouma! Hey, will you take me to him? I'd love to catch up! You too Rantaro, you gotta meet him!." 

 "Ehhh, no way... I don't wanna see him again, he flipped out and tried to hurt me earlier after all." Ouma cast a downtrodden gaze at the floor, hoping to sell his lie for what it was worth. Akamatsu and Rantaro gave each other a knowing look.

 It didn't work. 

 

- 

 

"Shuichi Saihara! I can't believe it! How have you been?" Akamatsu was way too loud and way too excited and Ouma just wanted to disappear as Saihara gazed between the two of them with a baffled look on his dumb face. 

 "A-Akamastu? How....? Wait, why're you with Ouma-kun?" Ouma could've punched him if he wasn't so against violence. So he settled for rolling his eyes instead. 

 "I told you I was evil, didn't I? I have connections you see. I decided you should be punished for what you did to me earlier, so I kidnapped your most beloved childhood friend! I'm currently holding her ransom at the hefty price of a 6-pack of Pa-" Ouma's rambling was cut short by the sound of someone hastily leaving their seat. In a flash, Ouma had been knocked down to the floor. 

 He heard someone that vaguely sounded like Amami-chan shout, and looked up at his sudden mystery assailant. It was a girl, she had long, dark brown pigtails and a stare that could freeze him alive and burn him to a crisp simultaneously. 

 "Harumaki, what the hell!?" A loud, brash voice cut through the air. 

 "What the fuck was that for?" He heard Amami-chan speak in a dark growl, clearly seething with rage.  _Aww,_ Ouma thought sarcastically,  _My hero._

 "Wow, someone should probably keep this bitch on a leash, dont'cha think?" Ouma spit back at the glaring girl, currently being carted away by a man with stupid hair and a purple jacket he wasn't even wearing correctly. 

 "W-woah, what's going on? Hey, let's all get along here, okay?" Akamatsu-chan pathetically pleaded. 

 Ouma was going to stand up on his own, but before he even realized it a hand was wrapping around his waist to help stand him upright.  _Amami-chan?_

 No, Amami-chan's hands were different. These hands were slender and weaker, but somehow just as comforting. They were Saihara-chan's. 

 Ouma looked up at the boy trying to help him off the ground with one eyebrow raised. Studying him. Was he really helping him after Ouma's outburst earlier. Ouma thought for sure he wouldn't even bother giving him the time of day anymore. 

 "Are you okay, Ouma-kun?" He looked at him with such genuine care in his eyes that Ouma's heart actually skipped a beat. Not that he'd ever admit that. 

 There was something about this boy. He was persistently nice, almost annoyingly so. He didn't instantly write Ouma off as the childish prick he probably was like most people do. He was gentle and sweet, it reminded him of someone. 

Amami-chan. 

Ah, now it all made sense. He had a crush. And the feeling of Saihara's unknowing arms holding him as he stood upright sent chills down his spine at the revelation. 

He saw the opportunity, so he took it. 

 With Saihara's arm still wrapped around his waist, he feigned weakness and lost his footing, tripping oh-so-conveniently into an embrace with Saihara. The detective squeaked,  _actually squeaked,_ as Ouma's head fell into his chest and Saihara tried and failed to stay upright. He ended up practically straddling Saihara's lap as the unsuspecting boy fell backwards into his seat. 

 It went silent. Ouma could hear Saihara's heartbeat pick up. 

 "I-I don't feel so good... Truth is, I have hemophilia, so I think you're little friend might have just bruised my insides..." Ouma stuttered and whispered in Saihara's ear. He knew if he said it out loud, Amami-chan might call him out on his clever little lie. 

 "O-Ouma-kun! Hey, look at me!" Ah. that was Amami-chan's voice. Of course he would worry. How annoying. 

 "I-it's okay Amami-chan. I think I'll be okay if I just get some rest in our room, right, Saihara-chan?" He locked eyes with the boy whose lap he currently resided in, and was shocked by what he saw. He expected Saihara to be flustered, furiously blushing, he even expected to feel something poking at his thigh right about now. But that wasn't the case. Saihara's pretty face was lightly flushed, but his eyes were  _watering_ , mouth half-open and eyebrows furrowed in a look that could only be called dismay.  

 "Oh... my beloved Saihara-chan looks so concerned..." Ouma hadn't meant to say that out loud. Maybe. 

 Ouma's heart ached. Hadn't he just met this kid? Why was he... feeling these things? Feeling cared for, feeling like he mattered. Amami-chan used to be the only one who made him feel like that. This was frustrating, and everyone was still staring. So Ouma did the only logical thing any sane person would do in this situation. 

 He held his breath until he passed out. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After much trial and error, I think I finally figured out how this god-forsaken website works! Weee. 
> 
> Anyways I really want to keep going because I have so much planned for this story, but my responsibilities are pulling me back to real life now.
> 
> Kudos/comments appreciated!


	3. Dazed and Confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So funny story about this chapter.... I stay up until all hours of the night finishing it up and was justtttt about to press post when my lovely, darling cat jumped onto my laptop and closed my browser. I wish that was a lie. 
> 
> Luckily I had a draft saved about halfway through but I was so upset about losing the rest of it I almost went straight to bed. That being said, the second half has not been proofread so I apologize for any mistakes, I'll fix them in the morning ^-^' 
> 
> Lastly, here is the adorable art I'm using as inspiration for Human!Kiibo in this story:  
> http://cenistar.tumblr.com/image/161251619215
> 
> Goodnight~

Ouma woke up slowly, light hitting his face, eliciting an uncomfortable groan from the small boy. He shifted onto his side and curled up into himself. 

 Where the hell was he? What time was it? And most importantly, what the hell did he do this time? 

 "Ouma-kun! You're awake!" 

 ...Whose voice...? 

 Amami-chan? 

 But Amami always calls him Kokichi. 

 He was so confused. 

 His eyes fluttered open softly, and a familiar face stared back at him from their seat near the window. 

 Saihara-chan. 

 "Oh, hello my beloved..." Ouma groggily whispered. The adjacent boy's face turned a cute shade of pink, and Ouma inwardly smirked. 

 "I was really worried about you Ouma-kun. especially after that, uh, outburst at the dining hall... I ended up talking things over with Amami-kun and Akamatsu-chan so I think I understand you're predicament better now. You know, you could've just told me you had somewhere else to be." Saihara paused to wait for Ouma's response, but it never came, so he continued. " I'm really sorry about Harukawa-san, she comes from an abusive background and I know that's no excuse, but she was just really on edge about some personal problems today! She had no reason to push you like that and she wanted me to tell you she was sorry." While Saihara was talking to him, he came to the conclusion that he was in the nurse's office...but why?

 "It's okay silly, I'm used to being pushed and hit because I'm gay." Saihara's face changed to a decidedly neutral expression. What a respectful guy. Ouma really did like him a lot, didn't he? 

 "I'm sorry to here that Ouma, really. That must be especially tough with your Hemophilia..." Saihara trailed off with a serious tone. 

 Shit. He now remembered precisely what he had done. 

 "Oh that? Sorry, that was a lie." Ouma wasn't sure why he was being so blatantly honest with the object of his affections so suddenly, but he instantly regretted it. 

 "A....lie? What are you talking about?"  Well, he figured there was no going back now. 

"You see, my beloved Saihara-chan, I have a problem. I'm actually a compulsive liar! Sorry, you're mad aren't you?" 

 Silence. 

 Ouma should've known better. He always falls for people too quickly and gets his hopes up until he remembers that he is, in fact, an unlovable piece of shit. Practically everyone in his life has made that clear up until now. This was the reason he always ended up falling back onto Amami-chan. Ever-loving Amami-chan was always there for him, no matter what sort of ridiculous pranks he would pull, things he would say, or vile acts he would perform. He didn't really understand it, but he was grateful.

 "..." 

 "..."

 "So, nice weather we're having huh-"

 Saihara abruptly stood up and looked away from Ouma. Yeah, he was mad. This wasn't going well.

 "You seriously lied about something like that Ouma? Do you know how worried I was? What...What is wrong with you!?" Ah, there it was again. That question with no answer. At this rate, Ouma was going to get punched again, so he quickly changed the subject. 

 "Jeeeeez, I already said sorry, what more do you want from me? Anyways, where are the others, hm? They didn't care enough to come see me?" Ouma faked a pout, but Saihara wasn't having it. He turned from his position near the window and walked out of the room without a word.

 After staring blankly at the wall for a few minutes, Ouma decided he would've rather just been punched. 

 

-

 

After a brief and hilarious encounter with a baffled nurse, Ouma explained that he was perfectly fine and ready to go back to his dorm now. The nurse tried to lecture him on the severity of the illness he had just faked, but Ouma started to play his usual mind games until she left in a rage and he was free to go. Ouma began the walk back to his dorm, thankful for the tour he had been given yesterday so that he actually knew the way. He absentmindedly checked his phone as he sauntered through the campus. 

  _5 Missed calls_

_2 New messages_

 They were all from Amami-chan. They always were. Ouma didn't bother reading them.

 Ouma was also a bit shocked to notice that he had slept for an entire day. Ouma never got much sleep, he usually spent his nights up drawing in his sketchbook or listening to music nowadays. His drawings had progressed from the childish scribbled messes he used to conjure up in high school to a still slightly cartoon-ish but much more refined style. He loved blending vivid colors together to create something that didn't truly exist, it was a beautiful way to lie. His favorite subject to draw was, of course, Amami-chan. Ugh. It was actually kind of embarrassing, but could've filled several notebooks with all the pictures he's drawn of that drop-dead gorgeous boy. It had been a crutch he used back when his mother had died, along with sneaking into his father's medicine cabinet and popping Xanax, amongst  other things. 

 He was so deep in thought he hadn't realized he was already at his dorm room until he'd nearly passed it by. He opened the door with a crack, peeking inside tentatively to see if his disgruntled roommate had returned before him. He hadn't, and Ouma felt a bit disappointed. 

 He closed the door behind him and sighed. He took the time to really look over the room. It was rather spacious for a dorm, there was a large window overlooking the campus on the back wall with a desk in front of it, and two identical beds on either side of the room. There was something special about the otherwise uninteresting room though, it had it's own bathroom. Hope's Peak University treated their alumni well, he couldn't deny that. The school itself was government funded and spared no expense to cultivate the future leaders of the world, the talented few who were accepted were given the right to indulge in a university unlike any other in the world. For what it was worth, Ouma really didn't know why he was here. 

 In the bathroom, Ouma found a sight he hadn't expected. Fully tiled floors and walls, marble counter tops with 2 sinks, a  _jetted_ tub, and a separate shower. He gave an impressed whistle. Ouma turned to look into the full-length wall mirror and studied himself. His face had matured a bit since high school, his features sharpening up a bit. He still managed to have a very youthful appearance to him, though. Large and bright purple eyes with a slight almond shape, a cute nose, and milky white skin. He noticed that the usual dark circles under his eyes had faded a bit with the rest he had gotten at the clinic. He had hardly grown an inch since puberty, everyone thought he would be a late bloomer or something, but no, he was just uncommonly short for a boy. His hair was wispy and curved upwards towards the ends, a dark plum color with slightly faded purple highlights on the tips. He should really get around to re-dying them.  

 His outfit was a bit unusual. He wore mostly black, his second favorite color. A black and white checkered scarf hung snugly from his neck, it had been a part of DICE's old uniform that he couldn't quite bring himself to part with. He wore a black long sleeved shirt with a loose shawl-like shirt hanging over it. He donned tight plaid skinny jeans with stylish black shoes. His nails were also currently painted black as well. Even though it typically earned strange looks from nosy passersby, Ouma liked the look regardless of what anyone thought. 

His train of thought was derailed with a thud coming from outside his dorm room, followed by shrieks and shouting. Ouma blinked a couple of times, processing the information, before giggling to himself and strolling out into the hallway. 

 He was greeted by the sight of a silver-haired boy being seemingly held against his will underneath a girl, with tits that were way too big, who was blubbering loudly about something he couldn't even understand. Oh yeah, he had forgotten these dorms were co-ed. HPU accepted less than 2,000 students a year, so there was only one large dorm separated into 2 wings. There were no real regulations in place to keep the 2 wings isolated, either. Ouma guessed Hope's Peak didn't really mind if the country's most talented students wanted to get drunk and procreate, or whatever. 

 His train of thought was rudely interrupted once again by the shrill voice of the girl. 

 "What the fuck Kiibo!? Who the shit gave you permission to fuck up my beautiful creation like this!? It was that saggy-titted professor who thinks she knows everything wasn't it!? WELL GIVE IT BACK!!"

 "Miu-san, please, calm down! The professor asked me to request that you please refrain from making our projects anything above a PG-13 rating! I'm afraid I had no choice, please understand!" 

 What a weird pair. The boy had spiky white hair and wore a black collared track jacket over a grey shirt. He spoke in such a polite dialect it almost made him sound robotic, no slang or conjunctions whatsoever. It looked like he  _had_  been wearing headphones until they were unceremoniously knocked down around his neck, probably from being tackled by the bimbo. 

 Said bimbo had long, messy blonde hair. She was flushed all over, Ouma wasn't sure why, and he didn't really want to know. She spoke almost directly opposite of the boy at her mercy. Loud, brash, obnoxious. But suddenly, her tone took a turn to something else entirely. 

 "T-that's not...! Just what...are you thinking I wanted to do with that thing Kiibo? Y-you really think I'm so filthy, so d-d-d-d-esperate!? Ugnnnhhh...." She began to squirm on top of the boy, Kiibo apparently, who looked like he would rather be dead than in this situation any longer. Ouma decided he would make him suffer even more. 

 "Woah! You guys are seriously just gonna do it on the floor right here and now? My poor virgin eyes... I'm telling the RA!" Ouma pointed towards the couple on the floor as he shouted his misrepresentation loud enough for everyone in their hallway to hear. People began propping their doors open and snickering, Kiibo's eyes widened in horror. 

 "Stop! This is not what it looks like! I must assure you we are not attempting intercourse, please do not contact the RA." Kiibo moved upward to try pushing the panting girl off.

 Ouma sauntered closer and squatted down to look Kiibo in the eyes, deceitful innocence on his face. 

 "Really? Then... was she just trying to suffocate you with her massive jugs? Ohmigosh! Was this almost a murder scene?? Holy crap, I saved your life, didn't I!?" Ouma's face was adept at changing his expressions at will, he went from being teary eyed to gleefully enthused in seconds. 

 Kiibo seemed shaken by the boy's sudden change in aura, but was determined to help him understand the situation nonetheless. 

 "No, that is not quite the case. You see, my name is Kiibo Idabayashi, and this is my lab partner, Miu Iruma. We are advanced robotics majors, and have been given an assignment to create an artificial life-form by the end of the semester. We were gathering parts as instructed, but Miss Iruma seemed to have pulled something from her.... personal belongings that I do not believe has any place in this experiment." Kiibo explained diligently as he carefully stood himself and Iruma upright. Miu's gaze still seemed distant, as if off in a fantasy somewhere. 

 "Oh? Wassat?" Ouma sprung up gleefully, feigning interest in Kiibo's story. In reality, he had already gauged from context clues what the mystery item was. 

 Iruma finally snapped out of her daze as if she just realized she was being talked about. 

 "W-wait a second! Who the fuck does this midget think he is to be asking a beautiful lady such as Miu Iruma, Genius Girl Inventor, questions about her personal belongings!?" Her tone was back to when he had first encountered them on the floor. Ouma grew irritated and decided to cut Iruma down a few pegs. 

 "Oh, you mean your dildo? Sorry honey, but I'm not actually that interested in talking about your  _massive_  15-inch long vibrator! After all, that's the only thing that would ever fit inside your cavernous, cum-stained hole anyways, riiiiight?"  

 Many sounds rang out across the hall. Gasps. Fits of laughter. And even.... moans? 

 Miu Iruma was officially the worst, she was getting off on this, wasn't she? 

 "P-please, there is no need for such vulgar language! I would appreciate it if we could all just be friends. I apologize for Iruma-san's.... quirkiness. Oh, I believe I did not catch your name?" Kiibo inquired to Ouma with an outstretched hand. 

 Ouma decided that however annoying these two might be, he would have fun tormenting them from now on. 'Friends,' Kiibo had called it. Sure, close enough. Ouma flashed a toothy smile at the hopeful boy and smacked his outstretched hand as hard as he could, causing Kiibo to yelp. 

 "The name is Kokichi Ouma, and I'm your worst nightmare, Kiiboy~!"

 

- 

 

Taunting Kiibo and Iruma had been a fun distraction for a while, but after they started talking a bit more about their class, a realization dawned on Ouma. 

 Today was the first day of classes. 

 Ouma had excused himself on the pretext of boredom, but in reality he spent the rest of the day doing such mind-meltingly boring tasks anyways. He had had to make a trip to the counselors office to avoid being immediately dropped from his missed classes, had to drag himself back to the mean nurse for a note, and spent the rest of the day playing innocent to his professors to make up for his misstep. 

 Ouma was mentally and physically exhausted, and the sun was now going down. However, he had managed to pull it off. He made good with all of his professors and promised to be on his best behavior from now on! He may or may not have been lying. 

 Ouma slumped down on a bench in the middle of the campus' park. He enjoyed the view; there was an extravagant fountain and large drooping trees swaying gently in the breeze. Ouma almost forgot where he was for a second, school. He had always despised school, and yet excelled at it. It was such a crappy system meant to brainwash kids into thinking that an arbitrary letter defined their entire existence. He and DICE had rebelled against it around their 2nd year in high school, collectively tanking their entire class's standardized test scores at the end of the year. The school was horrified by their actions, all of their top performing students suddenly dropping to an F. They had met up in their club room after the aftermath and celebrated what they knew would be their last official club meeting. The school shut them down immediately after finding out they were all offenders in the uprising. Ouma was sad, really, but he told his members it was proof that they had beaten the system so thoroughly that they had no choice but to shut them down. He told his teary-eyed followers that they had won. It hadn't been entirely a lie. 

 The members of DICE continued to meet unofficially off-campus almost every day, continuing their shenanigans despite their orders to cease and desist. That was about the time they started calling it a secret organization, because it kind of was. Ouma carefully constructed lies and plots in order to keep his members safe and their meetings secret. He worked tirelessly to outwit the principal of the school himself, who threatened them all with expulsion. Ouma had shouldered all the blame, and therefore all the hatred from outraged parents and staff by outing himself as the mastermind behind the plot. However, Ouma was also a known liar and schemer. Because of his confession, investigations were conducted solely on Ouma, with the rest of DICE getting off free. That was the way he wanted it. DICE was his family. He would protect them at all costs. 

 In the end, thanks to Ouma's wit, there was never enough evidence to prove his confession was anything but a fabrication, and before they had realized it, it was graduation. DICE officially disbanded. They had decided it would be for the best, since they were adults now, all going their separate ways in life. They had all promised to always keep in touch. Ouma had lied. 

 In truth, it was too painful to think back on their disbanding. The warmth in Ouma's heart whenever he would think of DICE's glory days would always flicker out into a cold, lonely ache. He wanted to leave it all in the past, where it belonged, rather than try and fail to drag it along into the future. DICE was gone now, and Ouma would probably never see them again. Well, all but one member. His second in command, right hand man, vice president, best friend; Rantaro Amami. 

  _Bzzzzt._

 Speak of the devil. 

 Ouma realized he had never checked his texts from earlier, Amami-chan was probably worried sick. He felt sooooo guilty.

 That was a lie, though. In truth, nothing gave him greater satisfaction than the feeling of Amami-chan doting on him

 He checked his texts.

 Yesterday 10:54 am - Amami-chan <3: Hey Kokichi! Are u on your way yet, the ceremony is starting soon.... I'm by the weird bear mascot dude haha

 Whoops.

 Yesterday 3:35 pm - Amami-chan <3: u should'nt have done that Kokichi.... That lie was a bit much, no? >.> I'm worried you'll get in trouble. If you need my help, please call.

 Unf. There it was. That sweet, overly protective side of Amami that only Ouma could ever seem to get to come out. He lived for it.

 Today 7:10 pm - Amami-chan <3: Hey whats up? Ur not answering my texts so im getting worried again, please answer? *puppy dog eyes*

 Well how could he resist that. He finally caved and texted Amami back, telling him about his day. He even mentioned his crush on Saihara for some reason, to which Amami's manner of texting changed slightly, in a way that only someone who knew him like the back of their hand would be able to recognize. They texted so long that Ouma only just realized it was dark now.

He was afraid of the dark. Bad things happen in the dark. He frantically texted Amami-chan, asking him to come get him. Amami knew he was afraid of the dark. He knew why.

 Today 8:39 pm - Amami-chan <3: Dont move, ill be there asap

Ouma clutched his phone to his chest as if he was drowning and it was his only flotation device. He wrenched his eyes shut and tried to combat the creeping anxiety. Oh god, the last time I was alone in a place like this...

He relived a scene of utter horror.  
He heard a pair of footsteps that didn't belong to him. He thought it was creepy but kept walking with his gaze squarely on his phone. He didn't even know where he was going, he had just wanted to get away from his father's wrath. He fiddled with his phone charm as it dangled loosely, waiting for a reply from Amami-chan. He wore a standard black middle school uniform. No colored hair, no scarf, he did his best to blend in. He had to after what had happened when the picture leaked. Stupid Tsumugi. He thought spitefully. He was going to get her, some way, some how.

Then he heard a wicked chuckle from behind him. 

Directly behind him. 

He choked on a scream as a pair of arms wrapped around him forcefully, he lost his grip on his phone and it hit the ground with a crack. The arms tightened and Kokichi felt like he was being crushed. He thrashed his arms and legs to no avail. With one arm securing him tightly in his assailant's grip, the other moved to smother his mouth, hiding his screams. Kokichi tried to bite, spit, anything that would relinquish the hold on him. Then he heard the mysterious person shout something out.  _Guys, I got him! Come out!_

Kokichi's panicked eyes followed the voices he heard emerging from a back alley. Several people came shuffling out, their voices whooping and whistling, they high-fived each other. It all became too clear what was going on. Kokichi had been playing one of his 'games' of tag without even realizing it. He had let his guard down, and now he was about to lose. 

Kokichi stopped struggling and decided to conserve his energy for when the opportunity to run presented itself. Kokichi wasn't strong, but he was agile and clever. About 5 boys in the grade above him clamored around until settling in a circle around Kokichi, spitting vile nicknames and petty insults at him. They hated his guts, and he didn't even know their names. 

Fear welled up in the pit of Kokichi's stomach. What did they want from him? Whatever it was, he was sure he didn't have any. Did they want a fight? His drugs? His Money? 

Kokichi swallowed his fear, or at least pretended to, and looked the one he assumed to be the ringleader right in the eyes. 

"So, how can I help you lovely gentlemen tonight?" 

He shouldn't have been so damn cocky. 

A fist slammed into the side of his face from one of the boys, it didn't matter which one, he had the feeling they were going to take turns and all get their fill anyways. His ears rang with pain from the impact and his vision blurred, when everything finally came into focus, he was grabbed by the jaw and forced to make eye contact with the ringleader. Kokichi will never forget the words he heard next. He said- 

"Kokichi! Stop!"

Huh? 

"Kokichi! Hey, hey, hey, it's okay... It's me, it's Rantaro." 

Rantaro's words cut through his memories and jolted him back to reality, to the present. 

Before he could grasp what was going on, he felt himself get scooped up into Rantaro's arms off the pavement. When had he even ended up on the ground? He laid limply for a few seconds, collecting his thoughts. He realized he was shaking so badly it almost looked like he was seizing, there was snot and tears streaming messily down his face, and he felt pain prickling on his forehead. He glanced back at the ground he had just been lying on to see a small pool of blood. He figured he had probably been bashing his head on the ground. He felt shame and disgust wash over him. He hooked his arms around Amami-chan's neck and hiccuped out the last of his sobs, burying his face into Rantaro's neck.

Rantaro gently whispered soothing words into Kokichi's hair and rubbed circles into his back. Rantaro was here now, so everything was ok, right? He was safe here, in the present. That's what Rantaro whispered to him. He was safe. Everything was okay.

That was the last thing he remembered before he passed out. 

 

-

 

The second awakening happened a lot like the first. The light on his eyes, a soft groan, an unfamiliar room. But there was something distinctly different this time around, something warm. Uncomfortably warm. There was something hot pressed against his back, he could feel sweat sticking between him and whatever it was.  _Gross._ He groaned once more, but louder and filled with discomfort. He wanted it gone, so he swung his fist backwards to knock away whatever the object was and let him sleep in peace. However, the object didn't move, it only spoke. 

"O-ouch! What the hell Kokichi!?" 

Oh, the uncomfortably warm thing was just his best friend. 

"Mm...? Amami-chan?" Ouma's eyes groggily blinked open as he turned around to face his friend. Amami complained, clearly still half-asleep, about being assaulted first thing in the morning and how much it sucked. Ouma was only half listening, as he had just realized something kind of hilarious. 

"Amami-chan...were you just spooning me?" Ouma tried his best to mask a menacing grin, this was prime teasing material. Amami actually  _blushed_  and stuttered out an excuse. 

"S-sorry, I hadn't meant to. I was bringing you home after last night but I couldn't remember your room number. So I decided to take you to my dorm for the night." The embarrassment vanished from his face and shifted to something much more serious. "I didn't want to leave you alone anyways, I patched up your forehead a bit and was gonna give you the bed, but you wouldn't let go of my shirt, so I laid down with you." Unfortunately, Ouma remembered everything from last night up until he had passed out. Amami chuckled lightly and propped his head up on his hand. "It reminded me of when we we're younger, remember we used to share the bed all the time as kids?" Amami smiled lazily at Ouma.

Ouma could barely catch his breath. He had a problem now. Amami-chan was just too pretty, even in the mornings, which should be illegal. His usually messy hair even more disheveled, eyes half lidded with sleep still on his mind, and the way his shirt hung loosely enough for Ouma to catch a glimpse of the DICE tattoo he had gotten on his chest in high school.  

Fuck. Ouma was getting hard. 

He couldn't really help it, the poor boy. Waking up next to the man of his dreams looking so sexy, smiling at him like that. God, he needed to do something quick.

"Jeez~! My beloved Amami-chan turned out to be a sick pervert after all!?" Ouma shouted loudly. "Taking advantage of a cute, helpless boy like me...taking me back to his room and doing who knows what while I'm unconscious!" His attempts to fluster Amami-chan almost worked, but a flash of realization crossed Rantaro's face instead. 

"Y'know, I'm not gonna fall for that, Kokichi." 

Shit, what's plan B? 

Amami-chan spoke again, "By the way Kokichi, I don't know that you actually have time to be trying to play tricks on me at the moment." Amami gestured towards the clock on the wall, "You told me you ended up missing classes yesterday, right? I wouldn't press my luck if I were you." Oh, he was right, classes started soon. But he still needed to find a way to get Amami-chan out of bed first, lest his dirty secret be discovered. 

"Blah, blah, blah, who cares!? I'm just so hurt that you really turned out to be a playboy after all.." Tears began to form in Ouma's eyes, "The only way I'll forgive you is if you get down on your knees and beg! And only maybe then-" Ouma watched Amami-chan playfully roll his eyes as he slid out of the bed. Ouma sat up in confusion. He wasn't entirely sure why, but his words seemed to get Amami out of bed first, so... 

Ouma almost yelped out loud when his friend gently grabbed his leg and dropped to his knees at the bedside. He smoothly ran his hand down to cup the sole of the smaller boy's foot. Ouma hadn't realized until now that he was barefoot. The taller boy placed a light kiss on the top of Kokichi's foot, causing him to gasp in surprise. It tickled. 

Amami looked up at Ouma with a sweet smile, "Please forgive me, your majesty." He said with a teasing lilt to his voice.

This was something out of a dream, he was sure it was a dream. But just in case, he took a mental picture of this moment for later...He would surely need to relieve some stress after these past few days.

If Ouma thought he was hard before... His pants were suddenly way too tight.

Finally, his saving grace came in the form of a knock on the door. 

"Yo, Amami! We've got practice in 10, let's hustle!" An unfamiliar voice shouted through the door. Ouma finally had some leverage. 

"Ohh? Looks like I'm not the only one who should be in a hurry then, hm?" Ouma taunted his best friend with a wicked smile. Kokichi made a shooing gesture towards the door, and Amami could only shrug in defeat. He gathered his things, said goodbye to Ouma, and quickly ran out the door. 

Almost as soon as the door closed, Ouma began undoing his pants. He couldn't help it. What the hell was all of that about? Since when was Amami-chan such a damn tease?

He searched around for a bottle of lotion, and after securing one, fell backwards onto the bed. He sighed to himself.  _Was he really going to do this?_

He felt guilt welling up until his hand finally grazed across his sensitive cock. It sent a shock wave of relief down his spine, he moaned softly at the alleviation.  _Fuck it._  

He desperately stroked until he felt sane enough to find a decent rhythm. It felt so good. He hadn't touched himself for a while, there had just been too much going on in the weeks up until moving.  _Weeks? Jeez, it had really been that long?_

Ouma's breathing began to pick up as he turned his face towards the pillow Amami-chan had been using and inhaled his scent. He smelled so good, Ouma could probably get off on his scent alone. He curled his blackened nails into the bedsheets as his pace intensified. He liked to enjoy himself when he pleasured himself, often making use of his free hand to finger himself, but Ouma remembered he was on a bit of a time crunch. That's okay, he could do this quickly, especially with the image of Rantaro on his knees for him still so fresh in his mind. Lewd noises spilled out of Ouma's mouth as he fantasized about Rantaro with that intoxicating smirk and he slowly kissed up from his foot to his thighs. He wanted Rantaro to suck on them so roughly he would leave bruises. He pictures Rantaro taking his decently sized length into his mouth, licking the head. He would thread his fingers through his stupid hair and pull hard, and push him down to take it all in. He imagines the cool metal of Rantaro's tongue piercing dragging across his cock. 

"Oh,  _fuck..."_   He was so close. His small body was burning with white hot stimulation. Kokichi arched his back slightly, the wet, sloppy friction felt so good. 

He couldn't believe he was doing this in his best friend's bed, and the worst part is, that was the thought that made him come. 

He quickly moved his hand over the head of his cock to stop it from going everywhere, Rantaro would never forgive him if he found out what he did. He laid there for a minute or so, chest rising and falling. Amami-chan was so nice to him, took care of him, and this was the thanks he gave him. Masturbating feverishly on the bed he sleeps on, _the bed he probably fucks his girlfriend on_ , all  because he was naive enough to trust a liar like him. Now that the euphoria had faded, the guilt was all that remained. 

He didn't have time for this. He needed to go to class, fast. 

"God..." Ouma spoke quietly to himself after cleaning himself up and disposing of any evidence, "I'm such a piece of shit."

 

 


	4. Second Chances

Ouma moved at a fast pace, somehow weaving through students while his eyes were glued to a paper in his hands. The room numbers and buildings were more familiar to him now, but he still didn't quite have them memorized. He nimbly slid through and around groups of people without ever looking up, people looked at him like he was crazy. They weren't wrong. 

He'd mastered this skill sometime back in middle school, when the bullying was at it's worst. He mostly just did it to piss them off. Gracefully cutting through his would-be assailants while doing nothing more than glancing at a book in his hands with a blank expression. He had good hearing, good instincts, and knew how to utilize his peripheral vision... that's really all there was to the trick. Of course, Ouma had told everyone it was because he was an esper. Since it was middle school, a lot of his dumb, gullible classmates actually believed the lie. He messed up every once in a while at first, but he had perfected the trick now, so he was not expecting it when he clashed into a body. 

He had been moving pretty quickly, so the force from the impact caused him to fall right on his ass.  _Owwww!_

He looked up with furrowed eyebrows at the person he had bumped into. His blood ran cold and he immediately wished he was anywhere else in the world. It was Harumaki, or whatever they had called her. 

How was it possible that he ran into her? She had just been walking normally, he wouldn't have missed someone so obviously in his path, right? But thinking back on it, it was almost as if she hadn't been there until the moment of impact. Like she had no presence, or at least not one that Ouma could sense. There was something creepy about this girl, he didn't like it. She glared down at him with an uncaring expression, not bothering to help him up. 

"You shouldn't be running through the halls, especially if you're not going to pay attention to your surroundings. Do you wanna die or something?"  _Die? really...? It wasn't that serious._

"A bit dramatic, dontcha think? And that's coming from  _me."_ Ouma began to stand himself up and gather his belongings, he readjusted his scarf and glared back at Harumaki, "You sure like to knock me on my ass, huh? My beloved Saihara-chan told me you had apologized for the other day, but I'm starting to think that was a lie." He wasn't sure why he was still calling Saihara his beloved, the small boy was pretty sure the detective hated him now, but it just felt...right? Wishful thinking perhaps. 

Ouma considered riling her up even further, maybe mentioning something about her supposed abusive background. Possibilities of the most biting insults he could come up with swirled around his mind, but his dream was shot down by someone else's sudden appearance. The man with the stupid hair who was with Harumaki and Saihara-chan at lunch put a hand on the girl's shoulder, and she flushed violently. 

"Harumaki! I lost you in the hall just now, everything alright?" The blushing girl began stuttering this and that about how she would kill him before the weird guy turned his gaze downwards, meeting Ouma's eyes. "Oh hey! You're Shuichi's roommate! Sorry about all the fuss the other day, really! I don't believe we've introduced ourselves yet." The man enthusiastically posed, Ouma thought he looked like a superhero from a comic book. Hands on his hips, feet planted firmly on the ground, he confidently continued, "I'm Kaito Momota, Luminary of the stars, and future pioneer of space! This here is my girlfriend, Maki Harukawa." He gently patted Harumaki,  err- Harukawa, on the small of her back... as if signaling to a small child to say please and thank you. 

Her demeanor had changed, she was now fiddling with her pigtails with a pout on her face, "You're really just gonna introduce me as  _just_ your girlfriend after your over-the-top introduction?"

"But Harumaki, that's-" Oh no, Ouma was so not about to listen to their disgusting couple banter, he cut the obnoxious man off to squash this conversation like a bug. 

"Well I'm Kokichi Ouma, supreme leader of evil and future dictator of the world. If you're nice enough to me, I might make you one of my minions Momota-chan~! Harukawa I'm not so sure about though..." 

"Wha- Evil? H-hey, that's not very nice!" Momota seemed thrown off by Ouma's introduction. Harukawa stared blankly at him. 

"Well it's not very nice to push people either, but your girlfriend still does it! Where's her lecture?" Ouma balled his fists and stood on his tip-toes in an attempt to look more intimidating. He realized he just looked adorable instead. Oh well. 

"W-well, I guess that's true. C'mon Harumaki, say sorry for yesterday and let's all get a fresh start, okay?" The tall man avoided his gaze in defeat as he urged the girl at his side to apologize. Ouma didn't really care to hear an apology to begin with, he had no intention of making friends with these weirdos, but he would grant himself the satisfaction anyways." Harukawa wouldn't meet the leader's gaze, shifting uncomfortably as if not sure where to begin.

Ouma grew annoyed with her hesitation, she was clearly in the wrong here, and she wouldn't even apologize? At the same time, Ouma realized that he was wasting his time talking to these guys when he should've already arrived at his classroom by now. Yeah, it was time to hit the eject button on this interaction. 

"C'mon already! I hate stubborn people almost as much as I hate violence. So I like, double-hate you now!" 

"H-hey man, that's uncalled for! You're being immature! Maki was just upset when she heard about what you did to Shuichi in front of everyone. She was on edge and she reacted instinctively when you showed up trying to cause even more trouble!" Kaito took a deep breath and attempted to calm himself as he continued. "I believe in Harumaki, I know she wouldn't hurt people unless she was in distress...You might've just, I don't know, triggered a bad memory or something." Kaito shrugged as he felt his argument falling apart, not willing to admit he was wrong. So this was Ouma's fault now? Whatever, screw this. 

"Yeah. Well I have places to be, I'm very important as a future dictator, y'know?" Ouma rested his hands behind his head as he casually waltzed away from the couple, mid-conversation. He heard Momota-chan shouting after him but he wasn't listening. Simply raising a hand as a goodbye while not looking back. Ouma noted that he had quite the headache now...but he figured it was just from the annoyance. 

He started running once more as soon as he got around the corner. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the time. He was 15 minutes late. Frustration welled inside him at the fact that he had allowed himself to be distracted by that obnoxious situation, but there was no going back now. He couldn't time travel, if he could, his life might've been simpler.

Ouma arrived at the door to his classroom. HPU didn't have lecture halls, as there were never enough students to fill them. The institution instead opted to use large classrooms containing all of the latest equipment and technologies for very niche subjects. They called them research labs. The one he currently stood in front of was the Criminal Justice Research Lab. The doors of each lab were unique to their subjects, this one had painted bars on it, imitating a prison cell. Some caution tape was strung up around the frame of the door as well. Ouma thought it was cheesy, but at the same time, he felt right at home. 

Ouma grimaced at the memory of talking with his professors the other day, just barely able to get on their good sides with his smooth words. It would take a lot more to recover from being late now. Ouma had 2 options. He could try to use his stealth skills to his advantage, slipping in unnoticed, or he could be a loud and proud liar. Ouma decided it was best to start off the school year by being himself. 

He wretched the door open and faked a stumble as he seemingly rushed into the classroom, panting as if he had just been running. The professor immediately stopped what they were doing, obviously concerned by his student's abrupt and dramatic entrance. 

"P-please, close the door fast." Ouma pleaded with teary eyes at the professor, who had come running to the small boy's side. The professor obliged and put a hand on Kokichi's back, asking if he was okay. 

"I-I though I was going to die just then. I'm so sorry for being late....but you see..." Ouma began to spin his web of lies. He began telling a rather dramatic rendition of the truth; He told the professor he had bumped into some thugs on the way out of his dorm, that they had started to hassle him for his possessions. Ouma insisted that they should call the police or issue a warning for the strangers being on campus. Ouma says he thinks they might've had a knife, but he didn't see for sure because he began running away from them. Because of the severity of the threats Ouma was lying about, the professor had no choice but to take him seriously. She immediately picked up the emergency phone in the lab and rang the campus police, retelling Ouma's account in detail to the authorities. 

Ouma started working through his head how he would fake his testimonies and plant evidence if there was an investigation later, maybe he would ask Amami-chan for help. While he was going over his thoughts, he spotted someone rather familiar looking out of the corner of his eye. Golden eyes, long eyelashes, dark blue hair.  _Fancy meeting you here_ , Ouma thought bemusedly to himself. 

 He locked eyes with his roommate. The detective had a hand over his chin, deep in thought. _Oh?_ It seems that his beloved Saihara-chan saw through his lies. He must've been fighting with himself inside, debating whether or not to call Ouma out on his story. After all, Saihara knew his not-so-well-kept secret now; Ouma was a pathological liar.

Shuichi was probably a very smart guy, or at least Ouma hoped so. He was sure he had already found the holes in his story and was fully prepared to rip it to shreds with evidence. The idea of having someone to challenge him in that way excited him. He had never found someone intellectually on par with himself before, could Saihara be the one? Saihara stared silently into his eyes, searching for something. Ouma gave him no leads, masking his eyes with pure neutrality.

As much as the thought delighted him, he would rather find out his answer later. Right now it was do or die. Ouma decided to use a different type of weapon than logic to save his skin now; his looks. Ouma knew exactly what he was. He was slender but not scrawny, adorable but not child-like, he was unconventionally attractive for a man, and there was a certain type of person who loved it. The small boy decided to try his luck. Saihara and Ouma had yet to break eye contact, Ouma changed his expression with a blink. His eyes sparkled, a cute smile on his face. One of Saihara's eyebrows quirked up with interest, as if asking Ouma what he has doing.  _This might actually work,_ Ouma thought. Ouma turned his head slightly to the side while maintaining eye contact with the detective, he laced his fingers together behind his back innocently. 

Ouma's tongue slid across his soft lips as his eyes narrowed slightly. It was a seductive gaze piercing into the detective now. Saihara must've read the expression perfectly, because his eyes widened in surprise and his hand dropped from it's place on his chin. The corner of Ouma's mouth quirked upwards into a smirk, and he subtly winked at his opponent. The detective's face changed color with the implications of Ouma's actions, he was turning red now, finally breaking eye contact. 

Ouma decided to take that as an admission of defeat. Although none of their classmates seemed to have noticed the mental war the two just fought, some must've noticed Ouma's flirtatious behavior, as he caught a few snickers here and there. He didn't mind. Especially because of Saihara-chan's reaction. He hadn't grimaced with disgust, or laughed at him. He  _blushed._   Ouma's heart felt light and filled with hope as he wondered what Saihara-chan's sexual orientation was. Could it be that he liked boys? He could certainly see it being a possibility. Saihara-chan has slightly feminine features. Soft hair, clear skin, well-dressed.  He needed to get the answer out of him somehow, but he could worry about that later. 

The professor hurriedly hung up the phone after her conversation had finished and returned to the small leader's side. 

"Ouma-kun, they are requesting that you take the day off of classes to go to the campus police building. They said they will contact your other professors as well, so don't worry about it. I would feel more comfortable if you had someone to escort you there, but I cannot leave the classroom unattended." She has such genuine concern on her face. She had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. Ouma felt the urge to laugh at the naivete. Turning to face the seated students, she continued, "Is anyone here willing to go with Ouma-kun?" The students bit their lips, averted their eyes, or whispered to each other. Their eyes were apprehensive at best. Those who realized he was lying gave a snort or rolled their eyes. Those who believed him were too afraid to put themselves at risk for the small boy. And then there was Saihara. The eye contact resumed almost as intensely as it had left off. The detective seemed to be considering volunteering, if only to keep an eye on his mischievous roommate, maybe even lecture him. Ouma tilted his head slightly as if clueless to the detective's thoughts. 

"I'll go with him." Saihara said decidedly as he stood from his chair, "I know some people at the station through my uncle, so I'm familiar with the way." 

"Oh! Thank you so much Saihara-kun! As a reward for being the only volunteer, I'll award you some extra credit!" The teacher clapped her hands together in celebration, and some of the other students looked like they wished they had spoken up at the mention of extra credit.  _So stupid..._ Ouma thought,  _Pathetic little lapdogs that would do anything to get a even a sliver more of validation from such a broken system._ Ouma had forgotten to control his facial expressions as he ranted inwardly.

"You don't look very happy to have me escorting you." Saihara whispered to Ouma while the class returned to their boring lesson. Ouma realized he had been scowling, so of course that was the logical conclusion Saihara-chan would come to. It couldn't be further from the truth. 

"Oh well, you know, with the way you were giving me those bedroom eyes earlier I figured I might be safer with the thugs outside..." Ouma's voice was low and alluring. Saihara tried his best to brush the off-handed comment away by immediately turning his head and making his exit from the classroom rather than replying to Ouma.  _Boo, you're no fun._

He skipped after the detective and closed the door behind him. Ouma's heart was still on fire from their interaction. It was amazing that they had almost had an entire debate's worth of conversation with just their eyes. He was reeling with want for more. He wanted to push Saihara-chan's buttons, just to see what they did. Upon first glance, Ouma had thought Saihara to be boring, but he couldn't have been more wrong. Ouma rarely got so excited about interacting with others, but something about Saihara stimulated him; and not just mentally. He had a nice view of Saihara-chan's back again, just like their first day together. He studied his back once more, even letting his eyes wander a little lower this time. 

Saihara walked silently in front of him, diligently complying with what they both knew was a lie. Ouma wondered why he had agreed to take him if he wasn't even going to talk to him, he whined a bit at being ignored. Upon hearing the noise, Saihara turned his head to meet Ouma's eyes. Ouma stopped in his tracks, and Saihara followed suit. The detective realized his mistake and immediately swiveled back around, not facing Ouma. 

Saihara-chan had been blushing. 

 _Ohmygod, that's so cute...._ Ouma tried to pull himself together instead thinking the obvious,  _He must've had something to say to me, but lost the nerve? Was it because of what I said earlier?_ Ouma decided he was feeling relentless today.

"Oh my, my, my... You're embarrassed about being called out for undressing me with your eyes earlier, aren't you?" Ouma had initially thought it was exasperation that made Saihara turn away earlier, but he might've just been embarrassed. How interesting, Saihara-chan was so full of surprises.

Saihara whipped back around to defend himself. He might as well just pick a direction already. "No, that's wrong, Ouma-kun!"

Saihara took a few steps towards the small boy, closing the gap between them. If Ouma wasn't so good at masking his emotions, he'd be blushing.  There was a troubled look on Saihara's face. Ouma had almost worked up the nerve to reach out and caress his soft features, but it seemed like Saihara beat him to it. The detective raised his hand to hover near Ouma's face. the leader instinctively closed his eyes, holding his breath as he waited for what might come next. Ouma felt a soft hand gently brush the hair out of his face. He let out a small sigh so quiet he didn't know if Saihara could have even heard it. 

"What happened to your forehead?" Saihara asked, abruptly pulling Ouma back to planet Earth. 

He felt a pang of disappointment. So that's what this was about. 

"When did you notice?" Ouma smiled curiously at the boy carefully poking around the wound. He had no idea how bad it was, or wasn't. Before leaving Amami-chan's room, Ouma didn't even have the guts to look at himself. Partly out of shame for his actions, partly out of fear of what he would see. 

The concerned boy sighed, "When you were retelling your account. Your hair hides it pretty well, but I specialize in finding things that are hidden, after all." He sounded rather confident in his abilities. Ouma hadn't really pegged him for the self-assured type. This discovery spurred something in Ouma. 

"Funny. I wouldn't have filed you as a man who likes to brag, Shuichi Saihara." Ouma teased. Saihara seemed flustered at the use of his first name. He stepped backwards, letting Ouma's hair fall back into it's rightful place, covering up his mistakes. Saihara cleared his throat and spoke up, 

"W-well, you're right I suppose. I didn't always believe in myself or my abilities as a detective, but thanks to Akamatsu-san's friendship and encoura..." Saihara continued on, but at the mention of Akamatsu-san's name, his thoughts trailed off. So even Saihara had an attachment to that girl too, huh? Kokichi couldn't help the disgusting feeling of jealousy that was rising in him. She already had Rantaro, and now... 

"Ouma-kun? Are you going to answer my question?" Saihara inquired, his face a mixture of irritated and worried as he realized he was being ignored. "Ouma-kun, I think you might have a concussion... you seem to be having trouble focusing." Ouma genuinely couldn't tell whether Saihara was concerned or making fun of him. The thought made Ouma giggle out loud, which evidently, didn't help his case. Saihara put his hand to his chin as he thought out loud, "As I thought, you should be resting today... Come on, I'm taking you back to our dorm." 

Ouma felt a hand wrap around his wrist, it reminded him when Saihara tried to stop him from running away in the dining hall. Ouma silently wished he hadn't yelled at Saihara then, but he could rarely control his emotions. That's part of the reason he lied so much. If he had an outburst, he could just claim his episode was just a joke, a cruel prank. The more he lied about everything else in his life, the more likely they were to believe him.

He used to take pills for his lack of emotional control, but they became addictive. When they tried to ween him off of them, his body would itch, and he would scratch until it bled. For a while, he got away with stealing his father's pain killers or other prescription medication. It was so unfair that Ouma wasn't allowed to have any anymore, yet his father took so many. He got angrier and angrier, even tried to hurt the doctors. He remembers a time when he had been confined to the prison of a straitjacket. He knew it was possible to escape them, he'd watched it on the internet before, Preparing for the time when they decided he was too much of a danger to everyone around him, and even himself. However, seeing his fathers lifeless eyes staring down at him as if he was an utter failure broke his will. He laid in the hospital room alone for hours. Unable to move, the jacket began to transform from an unbearably tight restraint to a warm hug. He started to chuckle at the thought, he loved when he managed to fool even himself with his lies. That turned into a feverish laugh, which turned into howling and screaming at the top of his lungs. He couldn't see or think straight for days, the lack of chemicals felt like it was killing him. He wanted it. Needed it. 

He might've just withered away if Amami-chan hadn't visited him in rehab every single day. Bringing him food that wasn't crappy hospital food and forcing him to eat it, reading him to sleep just to confirm that he was getting sleep at all. Sometimes, he had to just plain bribe him with Panta. If he hadn't done all that, god knows the nurses wouldn't have. They despised him. He made their lives a living hell, so he knows they wouldn't have shed a single tear if the teen aged boy had tragically passed away during the night. They probably would've thrown a party. 

After Ouma had begun to recover a bit, Amami-chan started to try and distract him from his bleak surroundings with hobbies. He brought him sketchbooks and colored pencils. Told him to give it a try. Ouma sucked at it. But it was all he had, so he kept at it. 

On the day he was released, the hospital proudly stated that another patient had been given a second chance on the road to recovery. Ouma's heart sank into his stomach. He was still on the road, after all. He wanted to be at the end, after spending months in the hospital, how could it still not be over? Would it ever truly be over? Did the end exist, or was it a lie?

 

-

 

Ouma heard the sound of a door opening. Maybe he really was concussed, he didn't remember how he got here. He had been in the hallway with Saihara-chan, then he was deep in thought, and now he was suddenly staring into his room. He felt a hand on his back and realized Saihara was standing beside him. Ouma realized he was having trouble staying awake despite the fact that he woke up about an hour ago. His eyelids fluttered closed and Saihara made a concerned noise. 

He felt his back hit the soft bed, he thinks someone was tucking him in too. He felt a cold hand on his forehead. The touch was so gentle and soft, he swear he'd felt it before. 

"...Amami-chan...?" Ouma whispered aloud. 

He heard a door close. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the kind words and interest in my story :) It definitely fuels me to keep going so please comment away! <3 
> 
> I realize my chapter lengths are pretty consistently inconsistent, please forgive me~ I'm still kinda feeling this out a bit. I'm unsure if I should make them longer for the sake of more content or if I should have them shorter for more frequent updates? If you have an opinion let me know~


	5. A Change of Perspective

 Meeting Ouma was one of the more 'interesting' moments of Saihara's mundane life. He had come prancing through the door with a big suitcase and an even bigger personality. Saihara was taken off guard to say the least... He had been preparing for his new roommate to knock on the door at any time, trying to be as neat as possible as he unpacked his belongings. He had his whole introduction planned out, he really want to nail it. Saihara had trouble making friends. He could really only name 3 people who he could call friends. He hoped his new roommate was the type of social butterfly that could make up for whatever Saihara lacked when it came to making connections with people. 

Then Ouma burst through the door and threw all of his plans to the wind. 

_"...you're pretty cute for a detective."_

 This strange person, Ouma-kun, was flirting with him? Maybe he was just misreading the situation, but that didn't stop the heat from flooding to his face. He hoped it wasn't noticeable. Ouma-kun was a little eccentric, but Saihara decided he didn't dislike the boy at all, so he invited him out to lunch.  

He remembered how bewildered he had felt when Ouma began shouting at him in the line to McDonalds. The detective panicked, unsure if he had said something to offend Ouma-kun. He saw Ouma turn to run, and before he knew it his reached out to stop him. He needed to fix this! If nothing else, he just didn't want things to be awkward between the two of them if they had to room together for the next 4 years. 

Reaching out to grab Ouma-kun had been the wrong decision. He was stunned in place for a while, slightly embarrassed by how public the disagreement had become. Eccentric seemed too tame of a word to describe Ouma now. 

When Ouma was pushed to the ground, he wanted to help him. Although the small boy's outburst earlier had thrown Saihara off, there was something about Ouma that made him hard to hate. Saihara had a strong sense of intuition as a detective, and Ouma was someone he knew he needed to figure out. Most of all, he just didn't want to see him get hurt. 

The tall and lean boy whose name he didn't know carried Ouma to the clinic, Akamatsu-san and Saihara trailing closely behind him. The two of them talked with worried looks on their faces while they hurriedly walked with Ouma in tow. Amami-kun, which was apparently the taller boy's name, didn't speak a word the entire time. He learned that Amami-kun was her boyfriend, and that Ouma-kun was his best friend.  _What a small world._

Kaede Akamatsu had been his best friend throughout middle school and most of high school. When she had moved away, he had been devastated. She was his rock, she had helped him through his depression. He couldn't deny that he had been quite smitten with her for the longest time. He was truly elated to see her again, and he was happy for her and her boyfriend. He wished the circumstances they had reunited under had been a bit more pleasant. He tried not to let the thought get him down, they would have plenty of time to catch up later, but right now he was worried about Ouma's health. The small boy was slumped almost lifelessly across Amami-kun's back. 

Amami wasn't even breaking a sweat. Ouma wasn't heavy per se, but carrying another human being across an entire university campus was still an impressive feat. Saihara thought back to when he wrapped his arms around Ouma's waist to pull him up. If he had been stronger, perhaps they wouldn't have gone stumbling backwards. Saihara hadn't thought much of it at the time, he was too concerned about his roommate, but they had ended up in quite an intimate position, hadn't they? He swallowed hard. 

They arrived at the clinic and Ouma was admitted. Saihara was there when he finally awoke the next day. He had come to check up on him, and remembered how tense he felt at the news that he was still not awake. Endless possibilities and worst case scenarios flooded his mind. Was he going to lose this boy who utterly enthralled him before he ever had the chance to truly get to know him? He felt a pang in his heart as he sat down by the window. He wasn't sitting far from the sleeping boy, and had a pretty good view of his face. 

 _Wow, he was actually very attractive._  

He studied him further, examining the details. His skin was pale and there was a slight darkness underneath his eyes. If you looked closely, you could see light freckles on the bridge of his nose. His examination was cut short when he heard the boy stir. 

_"Oh, hello my beloved..."_

Saihara wished he wasn't so susceptible to blushing. He felt it on his face and knew Ouma had noticed. He really couldn't help it though. He wasn't used to affection being shown to him, and Ouma seemed to shower him in it for unknown reasons. He really wanted to understand Ouma, as a friend and as a detective. 

Just as quickly as the thought popped into his head, it was crushed by reality. Ouma told him it had all been a lie. Saihara remembered thinking how he had stayed up all night sick with worry... for no reason at all. He had been avoiding going to his room ever since, even going as far as staying in Kaito's room the previous night. He was hurt, and his trust was broken.

It seemed that fate wouldn't give Saihara a break as he watched Ouma burst through the door to his,  _their_ , classroom. 

Saihara studied the lying boy who stood near the classroom's exit, panting with exasperation. Something about his testimony seemed off, and not just because he was a known liar. Saihara's eyes raked over his body once, twice, maybe three times, and found no trace of evidence of any kind of struggle. The boy claimed he been running from a group of suspicious people who he first met outside, however, there was a flaw in that scenario. Around 12 am last night, it had begun to rain. The ground this morning was littered with puddles, and the grass was muddy. With this in mind, it made no sense when he looked downwards at Ouma's spotless shoes. 

This wasn't the only thing that was throwing Saihara off; He examined the boy's face closely. He was mostly trying to follow his facial expressions. Suspects who are guilty are fairly easy to pin down simply by watching their faces if you are an experienced enough detective. However, it seemed that the boy known as Ouma Kokichi was not so simple to figure out. His facial movements and expressions were entirely guilt free, showing no signs of deceit whatsoever. 

Then a flash of bright purple stared back at him. So Ouma-kun finally noticed. The violet eyes seemed surprised to see him, but quickly gained composure. 

Saihara might not be able to gather any clues from his expressions, but studying the boy's face revealed something else entirely. It was very slight, but he noticed redness and slight bruising peeking out from underneath Ouma's bangs. Then, was he telling the truth after all? But...Ouma's story didn't involve a head injury. 

Maybe there was something more to this. The detective in him wanted to reveal the truth, but at the same time, he was unsure if now was the time and place. Did someone really hurt Ouma? Saihara felt sick to his stomach when he felt the familiar sting of worry in his chest. He quickly extinguished the feeling. His logic was telling him not to trust Ouma Kokichi, for he had given him reason to believe he was untrustworthy. _What should I do here?_

As he pondered, Ouma did something he wasn't expecting. He smirked at the detective, licked his lips provocatively, and gave a wink. Saihara felt hypnotized as he watched the display put on by the boy he was so engrossed by. He averted his eyes in an attempt to break the spell. 

The teacher asked for a volunteer to escort Ouma. He glanced back at Ouma. Something in the purple-haired boy's eyes was convincing him that this might be his chance. He just needed to get more information, that's all.  

He approached the smaller boy apprehensively. Ouma had shown himself to be unpredictable, and Saihara almost instantly regretted volunteering. What had he been thinking? He was trying to avoid contact with him as much as possible, and yet, here he was. He didn't want to admit the truth; That Ouma still intrigued him. Even after he found out he was a liar who had problems maintaining his strange emotions, his intuition was still telling him there was more to this than he might think. Logically, he knew that he should want to stay as far away from Ouma as possible. It made his brain hurt. A murder investigation would probably give him less of a headache. 

Speaking of headaches, what was wrong with Ouma? He had an irritated look on his face. Saihara felt his emotions swaying back and forth again.  _Is Ouma-kun that unhappy to be walking with me? Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. I knew this was a bad idea._  

_"...with the way you were giving me those bedroom eyes earlier, I figured I might be safer with the thugs outside..."_

With Ouma-kun's words, he felt the familiar heat rising in his cheeks and swiveled around before Ouma noticed. The detective was caught off guard by Ouma once again. What was he talking about!? He hadn't been giving him.... Had he? Saihara could actually hear his heart pounding in his chest as he remembered the gaze they had shared, and the way Ouma had... 

" _Hmph."_

As they were walking down the hall, Saihara realized he had essentially been ignoring Ouma-kun. He turned his head unconsciously to face Ouma. 

Why was Ouma looking at him like that...? 

The realization that the redness had yet to recede from his face hit him abruptly, he turned back around in a panic.   

Just as he suspected, Ouma began to tease him. The detective briefly wondered why he had even cared, Ouma really did make his head hurt... 

_Oh yeah! The mark on his forehead._

His intrigue overcame his embarrassment as he approached the boy. When he raised his hand to inspect his forehead, Ouma-kun's eyes fluttered closed. Saihara realized it seemed like he was going to kiss Ouma. 

_Kissing Ouma-kun?_

Saihara couldn't understand why the thought didn't make him cringe. Saihara knew that he wasn't entirely straight. He had never been with another guy before, but when he had thought about the possibility in the past, he didn't hate it. Saihara decided he would probably be open to a relationship if the right man came along. But Ouma-kun was....  _Ouma-kun._ Someone like him couldn't possibly be the one. Saihara realized he might've been lying to himself when he pictured cupping Ouma's face and leaning down to join their lips together. Ouma was a mystery to him, and detectives loved their mysteries... 

He pushed the thoughts away with objection and lightly brushed Ouma's hair out of his face. Just as he thought. 

Ouma and saihara went back and forth for a minute or so. Why did Ouma have to be so difficult sometimes? His frustration was cut short when he noticed Ouma swaying back and forth ever-so-slightly.  _It must be a concussion._ The detective grabbed Ouma's wrist and began to lead him back to their room. He decided it was unsettling how quiet Ouma was suddenly. He decided to try and make conversation, "If you don't mind my asking, how exactly did you get that injury?" 

Silence. 

Was Ouma-kun really giving him the silent treatment right now? He glanced back at the boy as he walked. His stare was so vacant, it seemed like he was sleepwalking. Saihara tried to swallow the worry he felt. He didn't make any other attempts to converse on their walk. 

Saihara came to a halt when they arrived at the correct door, Ouma-kun stopped obediently at his side. He glanced at the dazed boy from the corner of his eye. The clouds in his eyes seemed to be clearing as he furrowed his brows. Saihara's eyes dropped to the floor. He really didn't understand his feelings for the boy. When he would get into trouble, Saihara wanted to help him, but why? He liked to think of himself as a good person, the type who would help a complete stranger out of the kindness of his heart. However, Saihara was no pushover. Contrary to his mannerisms and his looks, he would always stand his ground against injustice, and refused to let himself be walked all over. Yet he found himself being tugged around by Ouma's whims now. If Saihara really wanted to, he would've had no problem walking away from the boy, shutting him out and never looking back. So.... why hadn't he by now? 

He sighed softly, and placed a hand on Ouma's back to draw his attention. He nodded towards the room and Ouma seemed to understand, leading the way inside. Saihara guided him to his bed, helping him settle his body into a comfortable position. Ouma shivered, and Saihara responded to his needs by covering him with a blanket. Ouma's breathing was steady but ragged, and his face was flushed. The feverish boy seemed to be asleep. 

Saihara felt a tinge of guilt for staring, but he never thought he would see Ouma-kun look so vulnerable. He thought back to the last time he watched the boy sleep, before he learned Ouma's vices. He remembered thinking that Ouma was attractive, and had to avert his gaze in embarrassment. It was easy to forget how abrasive Ouma was when he was sleeping, and forget he had. All he saw was a beautiful person who needed his help. 

He hovered over Ouma-kun with those warm thoughts in his head and gently examined his wound once more. It wasn't terribly gruesome, but he could tell that it must've hurt. The skin contact caused the half-sleeping boy to stir, eyebrows twitching slightly. 

_"...Amami-chan...?"_

Amami-chan? That was... Akamatsu-san boyfriend. That's right, he was Ouma-kun's best friend. Saihara-chan's hand left Ouma's forehead. A strange feeling brewed in Saihara's chest. 

 _Why did he call out to Amami-kun? Maybe...he thought I was him? Or maybe, he wishes I was. Did he forget that I walked him here?_  

There was no use trying to figure it out. Ouma-kun was clearly delirious right now, so it shouldn't be surprising that he mistook him for someone else. It also probably shouldn't have hurt. 

The detective sighed and took out a notebook he kept with him at all times. He scribbled down on the paper before tearing it out and sticking it on Ouma-kun's forehead. He laughed softly to himself. If nothing else, Ouma might be a good diversion from the monotony of everyday life. He glanced at the note he wrote, 

_I'll talk to the officers at the station and tell them to drop the investigation as a favor._

_Please rest and call me if you need to:_

_XXX-XXX-XXXX_

Saihara hoped he wouldn't regret this as he closed the door behind him. 

 

-

 

Saihara filed papers neatly into his backpack as his final class of the day concluded. After dropping Ouma off at the room, he returned to the Criminal Justice lab alone. It was his first class of the day, he still had three others to attend. Ouma-kun had been a surprising distraction so early in the morning, and Saihara found himself unable to think of much else during his other classes. He had hardly remembered the fact that he had agreed to meet with Akamatsu-san at the park after classes. He might've even forgotten if she hadn't texted him a reminder. He felt bad, he wasn't usually so thoughtless. He had really been looking forward to catching up with his old friend, and he still was, but now Ouma was weighing heavier on his mind than before. He wondered if he had awoken yet. 

As his mind wandered, he spotted his blonde friend fiddling with her phone on seat of the fountain. His thoughts cleared and excitement surfaced as he called out to his friend. She beamed back at Saihara as soon as she noticed him. He jogged up and took a seat next to her on the fountain's edge. 

"Saihara! I'm so glad you're here!" Akamatsu had always been such a cheerful and positive person, and she was wonderfully talented at piano. It was no surprise she was accepted in HPU, they had always talked about it when they were younger; Dreaming of roaming the spacious, marbled halls. And now, here they were. It seemed life was treating her well. She happily filled in Saihara with all of the details he had missed out on during their time apart, and he did the same. It felt amazing to have his best friend back. 

After Kaede had moved, Shuichi had felt lost. High school could be hard without someone to look out for you. Fortunately, there was someone else in his class who took interest in the lonely apprentice detective. Kaito Momota. He seemed to pick up on Shuichi's distress after his friend abruptly transferred out of their class in the middle of the year. It was awkward at first, the two seemingly having nothing much in common. However, Kaito persisted. Inviting Shuichi out to train at the gym with him after school, checking up on his health, eating lunch with him so he wouldn't be eating alone. In the detective's eyes, Kaito was a hero. He had taken pity on the detective and took him under his wing, calling him a 'sidekick.' The two eventually grew close, and considered each other dear friends. 

The next year, the two boys ended up in the same class again, much to the blue-haired boy's relief. In their new class, there was a girl named Maki Harukawa. She was cold and distant, and often thought of as rude. Kaito's interest seemed to have been captured by the girl when he heard a rumor that she was an ex-assassin. He began to bring the girl around the two of them, much to her chagrin. Little by little she began to open up to them. Momota and Harukawa eventually began dating, and spent more time around each other than Saihara. He was a little sad at first, but he understood that his friends weren't abandoning him. They were all still as tightly-knit as ever in the end. 

"Wow, you don't know how relieved I am to know that you weren't alone after I left..." Kaede's eyes softened and began to tear up at Shuichi's words, "I was so worried since you have a hard time making friends, but I knew you could do it!" She was as upbeat as ever.  

"Thanks, Akamatsu-san... Although it was mostly thanks to Momota-kun, I am his sidekick after all." The detective lightly rested a hand on the back of his neck as he spoke. 

"Don't be so humble! Sidekicks have the most important role, because the hero wouldn't even be able to save the day without them. Plus, they never get any recognition for a job well done, so that shows that they're not even in it for the glory!" Kaede rambled passionately on, and Shuichi chuckled at her rant. She continued, "Don't laugh! I'm being serious y'know. Laughing at people's feelings isn't nice, you better not be picking that bad habit up from Ouma-kun!" 

Saihara's laughter ceased immediately at being reminded of Ouma. Kaede seemed to have noticed her word's effect on him, she tilted her head. 

"Ah, it's nothing! It's just... something pretty bizarre happened with Ouma-kun this morning. It's still on my mind is all." 

She didn't take his answer at face value; She never did. The blonde poked and prodded until Saihara caved and retold the story to Akamatsu-san. She nodded thoughtfully along as he went through the sequence of events with minimal details. When he told Kaede about Ouma-kun calling him 'Amami-chan, ' she cast her gaze downward. Shuichi took notice of the strange reaction and decided he would do some prodding of his own. They had always been close enough to not keep secrets, so why should now be any different, right?

"Akamatsu-san, how do you feel about Ouma-kun?" Her eyes fixated back to his, she seemed unsure of herself. That was unlike her. 

"I don't want to give you the wrong impression, Saihara... I have nothing against Ouma-kun at all." She began by lifting her tone and regaining her confidence. "I met Rantaro on the first day I transferred in to my new school. He was the class rep so he showed me the ropes and such, we clicked pretty fast." She smiled at the memory and giggled before continuing, "The two of us started hanging out outside of class, so I inevitably met Ouma-kun as well. Those boys were inseparable... In a sense, they still are." Saihara's attention to detail noticed her smile fade into a slightly faker version of the one before.  

"Can you be a little more specific?" Saihara politely inquired. Akamatsu-san seemed to shift uncomfortably, and the detective felt bad for pushing her. 

"Yeah, sure. Well, see...." She trailed off, as if searching desperately for the perfect words. "Rantaro has always said that he would do anything for Kokichi. I thought it was sweet at first- And I mean, it is! Dont get me wrong! But..." She bit her lip. "Ouma-kun will sometimes ask strange things of Rantaro, and he would always comply. I'm aware that they were in a sort of organization together, DICE, I believe. And in that organization Rantaro was Ouma-kun's second in command, but... even outside of the organization, Rantaro would always tell Kokichi that he would do anything he asked of him. Ouma-kun asked Rantaro for many things, but some of them were a bit strange of, 'friends.'" She seemed to be beating around the bush a tad, but Saihara was staying patient. "F-for example, a kiss on the cheek. I mean, it's fine i guess, I've kissed my close girl friends on the cheek before or whatever. Also, he would sometimes ask to sit in Rantaro's lap too, or be carried by him. Sometimes, it just felt like he was doing it to piss me off," She looked away, seemingly embarrassed, "And sometimes, it worked." 

Saihara thought about what this all meant. Akamatsu-san was too ashamed to put it into words herself, so she seemed to be leaving hints for Saihara to put it together himself. 

"So, what you're saying is, you think Ouma-kun had feelings for Amami-kun, and would request things of him that would drive a rift between the two of you?" She didn't meet his gaze. 

"You must think I'm super pathetic now, huh? Getting jealous over my boyfriend's best friend. It makes me look so weak and insecure..." 

"That's not true at all, Kaede." He reached out a hand to comfort her. "It's perfectly normal to get jealous sometimes." He wanted to tell her that everything as fine and Amami-kun hadn't realized how she felt, but in truth, he couldn't just make those assumptions. As much as he wanted those words to be true for her sake, the things she described did seem a bit out of the ordinary. Ouma-kun was openly gay, so it might make sense that he would have feelings for Amami as well. Saihara thought back to how he had felt when Ouma-kun had called out for Amami-kun...  _Why am I thinking about that now?_  

"Ouma-kun is my roommate now, so we'll be spending a lot of time together. I can try talking to him for you, although I can't guarantee I'll be able to get a serious conversation out of him..." Kaede's eyes filled with hope at Shuichi's statement. 

"You're right, Shuichi! I'd appreciate that, maybe he'll be more willing to open up to you than me. Hey, maybe if I'm lucky he'll just fall in love with you instead!" She was clearly joking, but Saihara felt like his face was melting from the heat caused by her bold statement. She started to genuinely laugh though, her downcast mood down the drain, so the detective figured it was worth it.  

_Bzzzt Bzzzt._

His phone was ringing, he rarely ever got texts unless they were important, so he took his phone out from his pocket.

"Oh! Look at you, Mr. Popular! Whose it from? I wanna see!" Kaede was still riled up from her jesting it seemed, as she excitedly snatched Saihara's phone and read his notifcations. He weakly protested as the blonde's eyes scanned his screen. Her expression turned deadpan and she jerkily handed the phone bad to him. Saihara apprehensively took his phone back. What could've possibly been on his phone that caused that sort of reaction? He gulped with anxiety and looked down at his phone. 

_Today 6:10 pm - Unknown: Good morning, my beloved Saihara-chan <3 <3 <3 <3  Thx for taking care of me sweetheart~ _

Oh. Of course. How could he have forgotten who he had recently given his phone number to...? He glanced up to Kaede and shrugged nervously, she politely smiled back at him. 

_Bzzzt Bzzzt._

Another text splayed across his screen from the same number, 

_Today 6:10 pm - Unknown: hey hey, do u wanna go on a date with me? ★~(◡﹏◕✿)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Saihara POV! 
> 
> Like I said most of this story will be from Ouma's perspective but both Saihara and Amami will have at least one chapter told from their pov. Writing Saihara is fun ^_^ Can't wait for Amami's turn, but that one might be a while.
> 
> As always thank you for comments and kudos, they make my day :) 
> 
> Also do not distress, Kaede and Shuichi 's relationship in this fic is purely platonic! We don't need a love quadrangle all up in here.


	6. Human Connections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get out~! I'm a manager at my job so sometimes my work schedule gets hectic unexpectedly, i'm also getting married in June so wedding planning takes up a good majority of my time as well. Fear not though, i'm super committed to this story and will see it through to the end!  
> I read and appreciate all your comments and kudos so so much, i cant even explain <3

"I cannot believe you actually managed to pull this off." The robotic boy stated simply as he watched Ouma brush through his hair with his fingers. The violet-eyed boy cheerfully twirled the tips of his hair as he turned his body to examine himself in the mirror. Kiibo looked at his watch, as if signaling to Ouma that they should leave soon.

"I know, right!? Aren't I the greatest ever, Kiiboy~?" Ouma chirped as he spun around the bathroom of his dorm, surely threatening to break something. "Can't believe you might actually get laid, huh? And It's all thanks to me, nishishi~"

"Ouma-kun, please refrain from doing that in here. Also, those were not my intentions, I'll have you know." The silver-haired boy did his best to keep his composure while attempting to calm his friend.

Ouma stopped dancing around an put his hands on his hips, "Well those are  _my_ intentions, so you'd better be the best wing man ever or I'll have you executed!" 

"W-what!?" Kiibo involuntarily took a step backwards, shocked as usual by the words of the purple tyrant. 

"Oh shoosh, that was just a joke, silly!" 

"W-which part!?" It seemed that Kiibo suddenly remembered not to take the things Ouma said too seriously as he sighed, "Besides, I thought the agreement had been that the four of us were to 'hang out,' yet you seem to be under the impression that this is a date." Ouma rolled his eyes and brushed Kiibo off. His words were still true, though.

 

-

 

After waking up in his room after Saihara-chan had brought him back, he discovered a sticky piece of paper hanging from his forehead. Ouma had been overjoyed at the contents, practically leaping out of bed to find his phone. However, it would seem he was still suffering the effects of his injury as his legs gave out and he stumbled to the floor. The small boy laughed to himself, a real genuine laugh. He hadn't done that since god knows when. 

He thought long and hard about what to send to Saihara-chan, trying to think of something that would draw the detective back in. Ouma knew he was still on thin ice, he wasn't going to mistake Saihara's good deed as a sign of forgiveness. He fidgeted with the device in his hands as he erased his 21st attempt or so. He tried genuine, tried bullshitting, tried playing it all off. Then he remembered what happened in the research lab. Saihara seemed to be weak to affection. He looked over his final draft a few times, making sure it all checked out. He had decided on short and sweet, something that Saihara could easily repeat in his head when he thought of Ouma.  _I sure am putting a lot of thought into this._ He shook the thought away, and his finger hovered over the send button. He felt like a kid with a grade school crush. He decided it was now or never, and pressed the button nervously. 

The next thing that happened was pure impulse. After imagining Saihara-chan's cute blush and gentle touch, he couldn't type the words fast enough. He wasn't sure what had overcome him, but by the time it had passed, the second message had already finished sending. 

Ouma's phone slipped comically to the floor after he realized what he had just done. He was gonna need to play this off somehow. Unless... maybe Saihara-chan said yes? He heard his phone vibrate and he scrambled to pick it up. His heart sank into the floor when he read the text. 

_Today 6:11 pm -  Saihara-chan <3: No thank you, Ouma-kun. _

Ouma bit his lip, deep in thought. He hadn't even meant to send the text, and yet, he was so attached to the idea now. So much for playing it off. He wracked his brain to think of something, anything.

_Today 6:12 pm -  You: nishishi~ gotcha saihara-chan! what I meant was, we need to have a study date... cuz now ive missed two whole classes; im gonna fall behind D:_

It felt rushed, and it certainly wasn't one of his better lies, but it would do for now.

_Today 6:12 pm -  Saihara-chan <3: You do realize we share a room right? Also, you'll have to forgive me, but I'm pretty sure that's a lie, isn't it?_

Gah. Stupid Saihara, just play along! Apparently Ouma-kun was going to have to put a little more effort into his lies for Saihara-chan than most people. He didn't hate that, though. 

Saihara-chan was clearly still apprehensive of him. He probably believes that the small boy has ulterior motives... not that that is entirely untrue. How could he convince him that everything would be fine? Ouma breifly thought of Amami-chan. He was very popular with girls, much to Ouma-kun's dismay. He remembered a time when Amami-chan was pursing a girl who was suspicious of him being a womanizer. In order to make her feel more comfortable, he asked her out on a double date with another couple he knew. 

 _A double date?_  Maybe...that might work? Of course, Saihara-chan might still reject the idea if he used the word date, so he would have to frame it as a group study session of sorts. Ouma thought about his options. He knew of at least 3. 

Amami-chan and Akamatsu. He immediately shot down the idea.  _Too awkward._

Momota and Harukawa.  _No. just no._

Kiibo and Iruma? Well, they weren't really a couple, but maybe that would sell his lie even better! Besides, the almost robotic boy he had met in the halls seemed to be genuine about wanting to become friends, so he probably wouldn't say no.  _This could work..._

_Today 6:13 pm -  You: its not a lie meanie! there will even be other people there, so its not like we'd be alone together :( ik we share a room but i wont be able to focus unless were in a proper environment for education!! cmon, itll be fun (◕︵◕)_

He felt like his life depended on Saihara-chan's answer as he fiddled nervously awaiting a response. He was taking a while, maybe he was thinking about it. Or, maybe he was tired of Ouma's persistence and was ignoring him. Ouma decided on the latter. 

The small boy chucked his phone onto his bed, it hit the wall with a thump. He reached under his bed and pulled out his sketchbook and pencils. He needed to get his mind off the stinging rejection he felt. Saihara-chan had been the only person Ouma-kun's eyes had wandered toward since Amami-chan, and that had been five years ago. Ouma started to feel like maybe it was pointless to try getting over his best friend as be flipped to a blank page. He passed at least a dozen drawings of the green-haired boy; his smile, his laugh, his sleeping face. Amami-chan was the only one who would even put up with Ouma after all, right? But then... why had Saihara even bothered to help him earlier? To show such compassion toward's him? Even after he had found out Ouma was nothing but a shameless liar. And why did the detective have to be so handsome and charming? His intellect was so sharp, his hands were so soft. He was just Ouma-kun's type.  

Ouma-kun noticed he had been scribbling along with his thoughts. The familiar shades of green that usually littered his notebook had changed to blues. His heart ached with realization that maybe this was just another unrequited love in his life. Might as well add it to the list. 

The boy began to tear up a bit, but couldn't seem to stop himself from outlining the soft curvature of his crush's jawline. His piecing eyes deep in thought, with his hand to his chin. He shaded his stupid emo hair, including the piece that never seemed to lay down flat. 

 Without warning, the door to the dorm room's handle twisted softly, and the door creaked open. Ouma slammed his sketchbook shut swiftly, and turned his head to face the doorway. 

Saihara stood in the doorway, hand still on the knob, as he stared down at Kokichi on the floor. The detectives blank expression seemed to flicker into one of concern as he surveyed the scene. "O-Ouma-kun...? Are you...crying?"  _Shit._

The boy on the floor whipped his head around to escape Saihara's stare, "No. You need to get your eyes checked or something. I'm just chillin' here!" Ouma used his expertise to dry his eyes as inconspicuously as possible, steadying his tone so he would be as convincing as possible. 

"Chilling... on the floor?" He heard Saihara's tone lighten a bit, maybe he bought it. Saihara quickly changed gears with a sigh, "Anyways, after thinking about it a bit, I would be okay with holding a group study session this weekend if you really feel that you need it. I don't want you to fall behind in class. But it's strictly for studying, alright?" Saihara kept his distance from his roommate as he nervously agreed to go along with his request. Ouma picked himself up off the floor excitedly and ran over to Saihara. 

He wrapped his arms around the detective in a one-sided hug, to which Saihara let out a cry. "You're the best Saihara-chan! It's gonna be so much fun, I promise I won't even pass out this time!" 

Saihara started to stutter and Ouma was so close he could hear his heartbeat picking up. Ouma smiled contently as he unlatched himself from the blushing boy in front of him. 

"W-wait...What do you mean 'fun?' We're studying Ouma-kun, that's all." The flustered boy tried his best to use a strict tone of voice, but Ouma just waved his hands with an fake smile. 

"Of course, silly! It's gonna be the funnest study session you've ever been to~." Saihara looked at the boy like he regretted ever agreeing to this, but Ouma wasn't about to let him back out now. He quickly took off his shirts and began to unbuckle his pants as well. 

"Ouma-kun!? What are you doing suddenly!?"  _Changing the subject, idiot._  The mischievous boy made sure his thoughts didn't accidentally escape through his lips as he stripped down to nothing but his oddly-colored underwear. He looked innocently at Saihara, who was currently burying his eyes into the palms of his hands. 

"Huuuuh? Relax, dude! I'm just changing into my Pajamas..." He trailed off as he slipped an over-sized black band T-shirt over his bare chest. "What did you  _think_ I was doing there, Saihara-chan?" Ouma's tone changed to a decidedly flirtatious tone. The seduction seemed to be lost on Saihara, however, as he uncovered his face with a sigh of relief to see a clothed Ouma-kun standing a few feet away from him. The detective then pulled out his phone and raised his eyebrows after glancing at it briefly. 

"At 7 pm?" The detective questioned his suspicious actions, and Ouma simply continued to smile innocently. 

"Mhm! I need to get some more rest so I can be all better for classes tomorrow, right? I'm a bit of an early bird I suppose!" Ouma lied. 

"...Okay then. Goodnight." The blue-haired boy kept it brief as Ouma climbed into his bed. He wrapped himself into a cocoon made of blanket. He doesn't remember sleeping at all that night. He lay awake until the sun came back out, listening to the sounds of Saihara-chan going about his nightly routine. He heard him taking a shower, brushing his teeth, changing clothes and crawling into bed, after fiddling with his laptop for some time. Ouma-kun heard the sound of him breathing lightly in his sleep, and unraveled himself from his blanket to gaze over at him. He slept facing straight upwards, hands to his sides and blanket to his collarbones. Ouma-kun almost cringed at how stiff he looked, finding it hard to believe that  _that_ was the boy he liked so much. Ouma-kun snorted at the thought, and laid back down. He might've walked over to Saihara and examined his pretty face while he slept if not for the fact that Ouma-kun believed Saihara-chan would probably be an ultra-light sleeper. 

He spent the rest of the night rolling back and forth, trying to get comfortable. He really wanted to get out of bed and turn the lamp on, so he could resume his sketch. He wouldn't though, lest he wake Saihara-chan up and be questioned relentlessly. So he just thought. Mostly about this weekend. Saturday was now only 3 days away. He had 3 days to convince Kiibo and Iruma to go with him, 3 days to come up with a fun date. He would find Kiibo and talk to him after classes tomorrow, it shouldn't be a challenge to convince him to hang out. Iruma-san is so desperate for attention that she shouldn't have any objections either. Saihara-chan was the tricky one; At the first sign that maybe their little excursion wasn't really for studying, he might turn tail and run. It was a delicate situation. 

The next 3 days flew by as Ouma meticulously planned out the details. Saihara kept his distance from the small boy, spending most of his time outside their room. Convincing Kiibo and Iruma-san had gone about as easily as he suspected it would. He was glad to have found such easily manipulated pawns. Saihara, though, was not so easy to fool. Ouma-kun had tried to make conversation with the detective about his hobbies and interests, trying to pick something that might make Saihara not leave as soon as he figured out they were not actually studying. He was getting nothing from him. Ouma was frustrated, but then he remembered he had a connection to Saihara; Akamatsu-san. 

Ouma invited Amami-chan and Akamatsu out for coffee and asked Kaede for information on the detective's interests. Apparently most of his time was spent studying or working on cases with his uncle. Usually minor things, like missing pets or cheating spouses. His hobbies seemed boring, so Kokichi decided he could use some excitement in his life. Maybe... an amusement park? Amami-chan seemed to pick up on Kokichi's behavior and kept making eye contact with his throughout their conversation. As if trying to have a silent conversation with him. Ouma-kun just brushed him off, often just giving him a cheap smile and breaking eye contact. 

Before he knew it, he stood in the bathroom of his dorm getting ready with Kiibo. Ouma-kun had told Saihara that he wanted to go to a library off campus to study, since he heard there was one south of there that was like a 'museum for books.' Saihara seemed unsure, considering that HPU's library was already one of the most advanced facilities in the country. However, Kiibo and Iruma seemed on board, so Saihara had agreed in order to be polite. Unbeknownst to his friends as they piled into Kiibo's Prius, their true destination would be on the way to that made-up library.

 

-

 

The car ride was fairly boring for a bit, it had been Saihara's first time meeting the other two. Kiibo drove with Saihara in the passenger seat, while Iruma and Ouma argued over how to divide the space in the back seat. The detective seemed to be socially awkward around strangers.  _Weird,_ Ouma thought,  _I don't remember him ever be so stoic when we first met._ However, after a few minutes of boring small talk, Kiibo and Saihara-chan started to genuinely connect on a few topics. Something about some books they had read, maybe Ouma should take notes from Kiibo. His roommate and Kiibo babbled on for a while, and Ouma started playing footsie with Iruma just to see her weird reactions. When he realized she might genuinely become turned on by this, he immediately stopped and called her vulgar names. Apparently that was the wrong decision, because it only fueled her fire even more. 

"Ugh, why do I have to sit back here with this blubbering skank the whole time? Saihara-chan, crawl back here and block my view of this ugly tramp!" Up until now, the two boys in the front hadn't even noticed the altercation behind them, being too engrossed in their passionate conversation. However, it seemed Ouma-kun finally got just what he craved; attention.

"Ouma-kun! I will not tolerate such vile language in my car, stop at once or I will turn the vehicle around!" Kiibo made empty threats at the small leader while Saihara gave him a frown. 

_We're getting close now, any second here...._

"You can't do thaaaaat... this is my chance to finally spend some time with friends or whatever. My doctor said I need to get out more." Ouma began to sniffle. 

"Hah! That's cause a little fuckin' gremlin like you has no friends! Whassat, gonna cry because no one wants your dick?" Iruma barked at Ouma's fake tears. 

"Hmm.. Ouma-kun may be in the wrong here, but Iruma-san actually has quite a filthy mouth too, doesn't she?" Saihara questioned Kiibo, who could only nervously laugh in response. 

"I suppose you do have a point, we certainly have no shortage of personality in this car." 

"Yeah, except for you, Kiiboy... You love robots so much you might just be turning into one!" Ouma forgot about his tears as he lunged forward to poke at Kiibo's head, as if trying to find a switch. Kiibo cried and Saihara-chan started yelling something about distracting the driver; and then Ouma-kun saw it. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw colorful roller coasters reaching up to the sky in the distance.  _It's go time._

 

 

_-_

 

The four of them stood in line to enter the amusement park. Ouma couldn't believe that really worked. As soon as he saw the silhouette of the park he began shouting aloud with stars in his eyes. He started begging to take a 'small detour' to the park. Iruma was the first on board, saying she would much rather take a trip to the amusement park than a stupid library. Kiibo was next, probably just growing tired of the incessant begging radiating from the back seat. Saihara very reluctantly agreed last. 

As they approached the ticket booth, Saihara hesitated for a moment. He let Kiibo and Iruma go on ahead, and turned to face the small boy behind him. 

"Ouma-kun... could it be that this was your plan all along?" His voice was stern, and Ouma could tell it wasn't really a question. 

The purple haired boy tilted his head with his finger at his lips, "I don't know what you're talking about, Saihara-chan." The detective resigned himself and approached the ticket booth. Ouma skipped up to the detectives side and bought both of their tickets. 

"W-what are you doing!? You don't need to pay for me, Ouma-kun." Saihara tried to object as Ouma handed the cash to the lady behind the booth, completely ignoring Saihara's protests. He collected their wristbands and made his way through the metal bars that separated him from the park. He heard Saihara scrambling to catch up to him and Ouma chuckled under his breath to himself. Then Ouma looked up. 

He froze in his tracks. Everything was loud and cheerful; children laughing, cash registers ringing out, the sounds of distant screams of amusement as the roller coaster carts spiraled around their tracks. He looked at the bright and intricate cobblestone walkways that twisted around fountains and statues, mascots trudging along hanging out multicolored balloons to happy patrons. There were mysterious buildings and enticing attractions lined up in all directions, and Ouma thought they couldn't possibly visit all of them. Saihara caught up to the small boy, who was currently wide-eyed as he took in his surroundings. Saihara looked around at everything, but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. The detective made a sound of surmise as he uncertainly asked, "You've never been to an amusement park, have you?" 

Saihara's words broke the spell, and Ouma just realized the detective had been beside him at all. 

"I guess not." The detective gave him a questioning look at his answer, but shrugged it off quickly. The two of them walked to reunite with Kiibo and Iruma, who we're up ahead looking at the intricate wall map. Ouma was still in a daze. He had never seen anything in his life that looked so much like a fairy tale. He had never had the chance to go anywhere so fun in his youth, as he spent too much time in and out of hospitals. When he wasn't being treated for one thing or another, his father would always punish him. He was never allowed to go on field trips because he was always in trouble.

Trouble. That's all he was to his father. His father had a problem, but he would never admit it. After Ouma's mother died in a car crash, he had changed from being a distant and uncaring figure in his life to one that was all too intrusive and aggressive. Ouma had a theory that his father blamed him for his mother's death. The small boy had been in the car at the time of the crash, he had been pestering his mother for not having bought him his favorite grape soda while they were out at the supermarket. He was about 11 years old at that time, but he was admittedly acting like he was 5. He was kicking the back of his mother's seat and calling her names, tears streaming from his puffy cheeks. He remembers her last words to him so vividly. He also remembers the sound of crunching metal and shattered glass that followed seconds afterwards.  

" _Why do you always have to act like this!? You're such an ungrateful little brat!"_

A large, white pickup truck had T-boned into their small car. Ouma had blacked out at the initial impact. He remembers waking up to the sound of sirens and concerned pedestrians desperately asking if he was okay. He got scared, and suddenly realized he was upside-down. A stranger reached in through the wreckage and grabbed his hands, pulling him out of the car in a panic, trying to be as cautious as possible. He the man carried him like a baby, Ouma had always been short for his age, and Ouma squinted at the bright light outside. When he finally regained all of his senses, he looked over the stranger's shoulder at the scene he had just been carried away from. The white pick up truck had a red paint job now. Weird. But only in the front, the part that connected directly to the point in their car that his mom had been sitti- 

Ouma started to hyperventilate as he pieces the events together in his mind. The car he had just been throwing a tantrum inside was now upside-down underneath the truck, the front half of the car had been completely crushed, and his mother along with it. 

Ouma didn't cry. He didn't scream.  _He laughed._

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed as the man handed him off to the paramedics, the paramedics strapped him into the gurney, and drove away from his mother's grave. 

He hated himself for laughing. He couldn't understand just what the hell was so funny. One of the female paramedics told him it was how some people coped with grief. Ouma felt like she was lying. 

He and his mother had never been close. In truth, Ouma couldn't even say he missed her in the days that passed. Everyone in his family looked at him and wondered why it had to be him who survived. They would've traded a selfish terror like him for his quiet and demure mother any day. Especially his own father. That's why, on the day of her funeral, Ouma sat in the very back of the church by himself and quietly laughed. As her casket was lowered into the ground with a prayer; he laughed then too. 

"Hey, what's so funny, you little dipshit!?" Iruma's irritating voice broke him out of his thoughts. He realized he must have been softly laughing under his breath. 

 _Thinking about my dead mother,_ He thought without speaking. 

"Oh y'know, I was just thinking how you're probably super excited thinking about Kiibo finger-banging you on the rides~." Miu immediately crumbled, strange noises emitting from her filthy mouth. 

"H-how did- I mean, that's not.... Shut your mouth you lying little shit!" She was sweating as she rushed to...deny his claims? Ouma shrugged. Kiibo looked like a hot mess at the accusations, blushing and fidgeting. Saihara tried to defuse the situation, 

"A-anyways, since we're apparently doing this, where she we go first?" Oh? Was Saihara-chan actually excited? He had stopped complaining about how they weren't going to end up getting any studying done, and had a genuine smile on his face now. Ouma's heart lifted. He was actually relieved that his scheme had worked to his advantage. 

Ouma knew he was manipulative. The doctors told him it was a side-effect of being abused or neglected. He thought it was just because he was a piece of shit. His psychiatrist told him that manipulating people's emotions was a form of abuse too. They told him that children who are abused often grow up to become the abusers themselves. 

Ouma didn't want to abuse Saihara. The detective was much too good for him, he had a pure heart and good intentions. The opposite of Ouma. He worried that being around Ouma might taint the detective, infect him with Ouma's cancer. Another part of him wasn't worried for Saihara's well-being at all, just wanting to string him along and eventually get what he wanted from him. Ouma didn't even know himself which was the truth and which was the lie. But when he saw Saihara's face lighting up with excitement, he felt good. 

"Let's go ride the teacups!" Ouma shouted as the three of them debated among each other on where to start. He wrapped his hand around Saihara's and ran off, secretly trying to separate them from the other two. 

"Ouma-kun! Wait!" Kiibo protested until they were far away enough from the other pair to not even hear him anymore. Saihara said nothing, probably deep in thought as usual, but Ouma didn't mind. He practically skipped up to the non-existent line with Saihara's hand still in his own, and they filed onto one of the small teacups. Ouma had wondered to a greater extent why Saihara had yet to put up a fight until he was sitting across from the detective. Saihara was looking fondly off into the distance, staring at the skyline of the city in the distance, his cheeks lightly brushed pink. The teacup ride was clearly made for small children, so their knees touched as they faced each other across the circular disk that separated them. Ouma felt his heartbeat speed up again as he drank in the beautiful sight.  _Ugh._ He had it bad. 

Ouma put his elbows on the disk in the center and propped his head on his hands, leaning in closer to Saihara, who finally confronted his gaze. His eyes were big and full of sunshine, making his already golden eyes even more stunning. Saihara blinked a few times, before raising his brow at the staring boy. 

Ouma gave a smile and teasingly began, "I knew it! You're having fun, arent'cha my beloved?" Saihara looked like he was struggling to find a response. "I'll tell you a secret, Saihara-chan! I lied about studying today, all I really wanted was to spend some time with you." He wasn't sure what the point of telling the detective all this was, especially since he was pretty sure he had already figured it out. 

The teacup ride started up, rotating leisurely around. Saihara gave him a stern look, "I don't appreciate being lied to, Ouma-kun." Ouma prepared himself for a lecture, and began to pout. "However, there are worse places to end up on a Saturday evening, I suppose." Ouma looked dumbfounded as the detective softly smiled at him. He was probably mad at Ouma, but he was also having a good time?  _Don't look at me like that!_

Ouma felt a heat threatening to rise to his cheeks as he stared into Saihara's pretty face, still reeling from his gentle words. Ouma's initial thought was to change the subject, or tell Saihara-chan he had just been lying. However, a sickening curiosity overwhelmed him. 

"Why are you so nice to me?" Ouma-kun briefly realized he had asked that question before, but never got an answer. Most of the time, Saihara-chan seemed to be avoiding him; but when it really came down to it, he sensed no hatred from the detective. He couldn't understand why. Ouma had overstepped his boundaries multiple times already, to the point that any sane person would've requested a new roommate by now. Or simply hurt Ouma to make him stop. Maybe Saihara was just as crazy as he was. 

Saihara eye's searched Ouma's for a while, before he finally spoke up. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I just can't figure you out, I suppose. Despite how you act sometimes, I don't think you're a bad person at all." Ouma was shocked at the confession, memories flooded into his mind, all evidence he could use to prove the boy he sat across from wrong. 

"Oh? But I am bad Saihara-chan." Ouma face instantly began to darken. "I'm so disgusting, I killed my own mother and laughed at her funeral." The words were abrasive and sinister, contrasting completely with the upbeat music and colorful atmosphere. Saihara was taken aback as a sinful smile grew on the small boy's lips. Time seemed to stop for a moment, Saihara looked genuinely terrified. The worst part was that Ouma-kun didn't even feel like his statement had been a lie. Ouma realized he was going too far. 

"Pfffft.... You should see your face right now Saihara-chan! That was a lie!" Ouma laughed as Saihara sputtered and berated the purple-haired boy for telling such a horrible lie. Ouma tuned him out and briefly wondered what the disk he had been resting his elbows on this whole time actually did. He glanced over to the few other teacups that hosted people in them, and saw children screeching gleefully as their teacup rotated around. _Oh?  That looks kinda fun too._

Saihara had finally regained his composure. Saihara looked as if he had just remembered something important as Ouma stared blankly into his eyes. The detective cleared his throat. "By the way, Ouma-kun, there was something I wanted to talk with you about." Ouma's expression stayed blank and Saihara took that as his cue to continue. " It's about Akamatsu-san and Amami-kun..."  _Oh hell no._ "I don't mean to pry into your personal life, but Akamatsu-san is a long-time friend of mine, so I was wondering if maybe..." Saihara shifted uncomfortably in his cramped seat, knees knocking against Ouma-kun's. "I heard that you and Amami-kun are very close friends, but... Could it be that maybe you hav-"

Ouma lifted his elbows and gripped the disk with both hands, forcefully yanking it clockwise. Saihara was cut off mid-sentence and cried out in surprise. Ouma snorted and began to continuously spin the disk while laughing. Saihara struggled to find his bearings and begged Ouma to stop, saying he was getting dizzy. 

"You won't be dizzy if you just focus on me, silly."  _That's right, I don't want to think about Amami-chan or that boring bimbo at all today...._

_Just keep your eyes on me._

Saihara blinked up at Ouma-kun, steadying himself as his surroundings swirled about in a blur. Ouma-kun stared back at him and smiled. 

"Wanna help me spin it, too? You won't be as dizzy if you feel in control. C'mon, it's actually really fun!" Ouma stopped spinning with one of his hands to reach over and grab Saihara's. He placed the detective's hands on the disk and urged him to spin. Saihara blinked a few more times before finally beginning to help rotate the wheel. He started off slow, as if unsure, but a smile seemed to unconsciously spread across his face. Ouma chuckled at how nervous the boy was about spinning a teacup. He must not let loose very often. Saihara's smile didn't fade as he focused on Ouma. The detective started to spin faster, and his eyes shut tight with laughter as they started to feel their bodies shifting in their seats from the swirling motion. His laughter felt contagious as it spread to Ouma himself, he watched Saihara's neatly combed hair flutter in the wind. The two boys were so caught up in competing to see who could spin the fastest they hadn't even noticed the ride slowly down from its already sluggish pace. 

As the sounds of the ride shutting down finally hit their ears, they stopped spinning. Saihara opened his eyes, still breathlessly chuckling as he realized Ouma had been staring at him. Ouma's face was on fire, he blamed it on the fact that he was winded, but that was a lie. The sight of the aloof detective letting loose in front of Ouma and truly enjoying himself was etched into his mind. He suddenly had the urge to pull out his sketchbook. When the two stepped off the teacup, staggering a bit from dizziness, they noticed Kiibo and Iruma waving them down from the sidelines. Ouma decided he had had his fun and wouldn't try to run away from them anymore. 

Their next stop had been the roller coasters. Ouma wouldn't admit to being scared as he bravely stride on to the front carts, claiming he was a coaster fanatic who craved the adrenaline. He was grateful that no one questioned why he screamed like a girl the whole time. 

After a few coasters, Ouma was desperate to change their focus off of the flying death machines. He complained about being hungry, so the four of them walked around the park for a bit before deciding on a small cafe to eat at. The small boy had never had much of an appetite. He certainly didn't eat like a man. He disliked meat and preferred things that tasted sweet when he did decide to eat. While everyone else ordered their dinner, Ouma settled on simply ordering grape soda with a slice of cheesecake. 

"Hah! You call yourself a man!? I've never heard of a grown-ass man going out to dinner and only ordering sugar."  Ouma kept his face straitlaced as he bit into his dessert. 

"What can I say? I have a bit of a sweet tooth. Don't be mad just cause your snatch smells like fish instead of candy!" Kiibo and Saihara nearly spit out their food at the comment, Miu just teared up and started denying his claims. 

"Ouma-kun, please, not while we're eating..." Saihara face-palmed as he chastised the vulgar boy. Ouma just giggled and sipped his soda in response.

By the time they had finished eating, the sun was setting, and they decided to try a few more small rides and attractions before heading home. Ouma stuck closely to Saihara-chan's side the whole time, and the detective didn't seem to mind much.

They had all completely forgotten about their 'study session' by the time they were making their way out the gates. Kiibo and Iruma talking about their favorite rides while Saihara smiled along. 

The car ride home was a lot quieter than the ride there. Iruma snored softly and Ouma tried sticking tissues into her nose as she slept, but was quickly stopped by the more responsible boys in the front. The boys played classics from the 90's through the car's speakers and bantered about their music tastes. Ouma was surprised to learn that Saihara and he actually had similar taste in music. Saihara loved My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy, apparently. Ouma wondered out loud if Saihara had an emo phase, and not even Kiibo could stifle his laughter at the thought. 

They pulled into the parking lot of the dorms and Ouma woke Iruma up with a chop to the head. Kiibo commented on the fact that they really hadn't studied at all, but Ouma waved him off. That never was the plan, after all. 

They parted ways after saying their goodbyes in the hallway, all except for Saihara and Ouma, who started walking the same direction. Neither of them said a word to each other as they made their way to their room, nothing but a small smile gracing both of their lips. The silence didn't feel awkward somehow. 

Once they entered their room, Ouma checked the time. 

It was already 11 pm. He unconsciously yawned and started unbuckling his belt to change clothes. Saihara shyly looked away like he always did, it seemed he was getting used to Ouma's strange habits. The half-naked boy sifted through his collection of over-sized shirts, most of which actually belonged to Amami-chan in high school. He found the one he was looking for and triumphantly pulled it out of his drawer. He slipped the shirt on and faced Saihara with his hands on his hips. 

"T-thats...!" Saihara shouted abruptly before clasping his hands over his mouth before he embarrassed himself further. Ouma was sporting a My Chemical Romance band T-shirt. 

"Nishishi~ I fuckin' knew it. You're totally emo Saihara-chan! I wanna see pictures of your emo phase one day." Ouma's tone was mocking, but he was actually serious about wanting to see pictures.  

 

- 

 

After both boys had crawled into their beds, Saihara reached out and turned the table-side lamp near his bed off, rolling over without much thought. Ouma was a little disappointed that they would just go straight to bed after such a fun day, but he expected as much. As the small boy reached to turn off his own light, he was stopped by the sound of Saihara's voice. 

"Ouma-kun...Um..." Saihara hesitated, "T-thanks for today. I haven't had that much fun in a long time, really..." Saihara's voice had dropped to a whisper, but Ouma clung to every syllable. His heart pounded again. He resisted the urge to crawl into the other's bed with him, he was being too cute. Instead he just swallowed the truth and replied nonchalantly, 

"Yeah, I know. G'night." He pulled the cord and immersed the room in darkness. He rolled over to face the wall and tried to steady his heartbeat. He heard Saihara shift a bit, before succumbing to sleep. Ouma sat up in bed and glanced over at the sleeping boy. It scared him how much he liked him. He knew he was going to fuck it up somehow. 

Ouma knew there was no use dwelling on the inevitable now, so he slipped to the floor silently and pulled out his sketchbook. He began tracing the outline of the teacups with a sad smile on his face.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I low-key love Iruma and Ouma's dirty banter in-game....if you cant tell....
> 
> They're a match made in hell. *shrugs*
> 
> Also Emo!Saihara anyone? No, just me? Okay....


	7. Unhealthy Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise double update! Guess who had the day off, nishishi~
> 
> I made a spotify playlist for this fic!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/21wustlyziqfl735cufarcdhq/playlist/4Sl5zIain6UNivaHdT7BgR
> 
> Check it out if you want~

The day at the amusement park had now been several weeks ago, but the memories were still vivid in Ouma's mind. That night had been a changing point in Ouma and Saihara's relationship. Saihara had gone from being cold and distant towards the small boy to something akin to a friend. 

Saihara wouldn't ever go out of his way to catch Ouma's attention or wait up for him or anything, but he certainly wouldn't avoid him if he saw him outside of their dorm room. Ouma would often have Saihara help him with his homework in their room at night, Ouma would savor the smell of Saihara's shampoo as he leaned in over his shoulder to get a better look at his papers. Truthfully, Ouma didn't even need help with his homework, he just needed an excuse to get closer to the boy he adored. 

Criminal Justice turned out to be the only lab he and Saihara shared, but Ouma wasn't lonely in his other classes. In fact, it seemed easier to concentrate in his other studies without anybody around that he gave a shit about. 

Ouma had developed a bit of a daily routine after settling in to his new life as a semi-independent adult. He would wake up, get dressed, walk with Saihara to their class. After that he would usually have some free time that he would spend pestering Kiibo outside of his Robotics Lab and/or snacking off of vending machines. He and Kiibo had become surprisingly close, and by that he meant Kiibo was either too naive to realize he was being picked on, or didn't care. Due to that, he wouldn't push Ouma away or threaten him, so Ouma decided he rather liked the aloof boy.  

He would then move on to his final classes of the day, they were such a breeze Ouma would sometimes fall asleep. His professors had grown restless of him, and eventually just let him sleep. He would always ace their quizzes, so they couldn't really kick him out. After classes he would go to Amami-chan's football practice every day, without fail. Sometimes Akamatsu-chan would be there too, but sometimes she was too busy with her own practices to make it. 

The two, or sometimes three, of them would then go out for dinner since admittedly none of them could cook for themselves. Depending on his mood, Ouma would either go back to Amami-chan's dorm to hang out or go straight home to his own room. He rarely saw Saihara-chan at their room until late at night. He wasn't sure what the detective got up to at first, but after a bit of prodding he discovered he would always hang out with Momoto and Harukawa after classes, usually studying or training.  _Don't you ever get tired of being a third wheel?_ Ouma remembers thinking about voicing his opinion before realizing that he was in no position to judge.  _Oh wait... I guess I'm kind of a third wheel too._

At night he would spend as much time with his crush as he could before the detective got tired and was ready for bed. Ouma had given a few of his band T-shirts to Saihara, who would often wear them to bed. Ouma bit his lip when he first saw Saihara actually wearing one of the shirts he had given to him, he wasn't expecting him to  _actually_ wear them. They looked so good on him. 

When Saihara fell asleep, Ouma would quietly sneak out of his bed every night and pull out his tried and true sketchbook, coloring drawings until the sun came up sometimes. No wonder he always falls asleep in class.

Ouma had been repeating this schedule so many days he started to forget what life was even like before he came to the University, he hoped it would stay that way. 

It wouldn't. 

 

-

 

One day as he chatted with Kiibo between classes, Miu inserted herself between the two of them. 

"What's up virgins!? Boy do I have news for you! There's a party hosted by moi this weekend, and you fuck-boys are gonna be there, got it!?" Kiibo was startled by the intrusion, but Ouma just threw his hands behind his head in amusement and snickered. 

" _You're_ calling  _us_ virgins? Bitch please, I've gotten way more dick then you ever will." Kiibo sighed at the usual back-and-forth, no longer attempting to stop it. 

"Oh yeah, shrimp dick? Ya wanna put that theory to the test!?" Miu seemed to have located her spine as she balled her fists and turned towards the smirking boy. 

"Eeek!" Kokichi shrieked and ran behind the safety of Kiibo's equally weak frame. "Save me from your bat-shit crazy girlfriend, Kiiboy!" 

"S-she is not my girlfriend!" Kiibo blushed furiously and threw his hands up in surrender as Iruma approached the two quivering boys. Miu burst into laughter at the sight, clutching her stomach. 

"Hhahahaaha.... You fuckin' dorks! I'm not really gonna hit you, sheesh." Ouma peeked over Kiibo's shoulders and blinked innocently at Iruma. 

"P-promise?" Unfortunately, only Ouma's cruelty ever seemed to get a reaction out of the strange girl; His cuteness had no effect. 

"Sure, whatever, numb-nuts." She grew increasingly agitated at the subject wandering away from her initial proposal. "So you guys comin' or what?"

Kokichi and Kiibo looked at eachother, Ouma still perched on the silver-haired boy's shoulders. They shrugged simultaneously. Iruma let out a devastated sound at the lackluster reaction. 

"C-c'mon... I'll ever g-get on my hands and knees and beg...if that's really what you guys want..." She pursed her lips and began to lower herself to the ground. 

"Nu-uh! Don't even think about it, we'll go to your dumb party." Ouma interjected before she could make a fool out of herself in front of the two boys. Ouma normally wouldn't care too much, but there were simply too many witnesses in the hallway. Kiibo flinched at his vote being cast for him, but let out an exasperated sigh of defeat. Ouma took that as his consent. 

At the news, Miu began to repeatedly bow to the two of them. Kiibo refused to make eye contact, and Ouma simply glared at the simpering mess until she got the hint. She excused herself with the promise of texting them the details later. Kiibo realized it was time for their class and excused himself as well. 

Kokichi realized he had just made a big mistake. 

Agreeing to go to a party was a bad idea for someone like him, and he knew that. He just wanted Miu to shut up. Left alone with his thoughts in that hallway, his face turned sullen. He turned around on his heel and started to walk away. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Amami Rantaro standing just down the hall, staring at him with his arms crossed. Ouma's blood suddenly felt like it was ice running through his veins. He should run... 

Amami-chan took one step towards toward his direction with a fightening expression on his face. 

_Sorry, Amami-chan._

The small boy sprinted forward and ran straight through his friend, not looking back when he heard his name being sharply called out. 

 

-

 

Kokichi didn't dare meet up with Amami-chan after classes that day. He made a B-line for his dorm, praying to whatever god might happen to exist that Amami-chan wasn't already ten steps ahead of him. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out and instantly silenced it. His heart raced with every corner he turned, fearing he might just run straight into his pursuer. He could've cried with relief when he saw the room to his dorm completely free of anyone who might be waiting for him to arrive. 

Ouma practically launched himself through the door and locked it behind him, panting against it in fear. He couldn't let Amami-chan catch him right now. Amami-chan wouldn't hurt him, probably, but right now he wasn't looking forward to the consequences he was inevitably going to have to face. He let out one last deep breath before turning into his room where he saw.... Saihara-chan? 

Well this was awkward now. Saihara sat on his own bed with a notebook in his hands. It looked like he had stopped writing mid-sentence or something, frozen in place as he stared at Ouma with concerned eyes. Ouma wondered what the detective was doing here, he usually never came to their room unless it was night time. Then again, Ouma was usually never here at this time of day, so maybe he had just always missed him. That seemed the most likely case, since Saihara looked like he was not expecting Ouma to come through that door anytime soon. They stared at each other in silence for a few more moments, analyzing each other. Ouma decided to break the silence by standing himself up straight and letting out a soft giggle. 

"Fancy meeting you here, my beloved Saihara-chan." He tried his best to act like he hadn't just stumbled through the door in a panic, but he wasn't fooling anyone. Saihara was probably about to question him before several loud knocks rang out on their door. 

Kokichi jumped at the sound, his eyes shooting open in terror. He scurried over to Saihara and desperately whispered,  _"Hide me!"_  The small boy's fear must have infected the detective, as he slammed his book shut and sprung up from his spot on the bed, his eyes frantically questioning Ouma's strange behavior. His curiosity was cut short by the sound of the knocking returning, louder than before. 

"Kokichi! I know you're in there, now open the door." The muffled voice shouted through the closed door. Kokichi gestured for Saihara to hurry up. 

The detective quickly shoved Ouma onto the bed and muffled his shock with blankets. Ouma immediately understood and curled up into a ball, trying to look like he was nothing more than a disheveled heap of blankets. He heard the door to their dorm open. The blankets were thin enough for the small boy to see through, only just barely. 

"C-can I help you...?" Saihara asked the figure at the door nervously, scratching at the back of his neck. 

Rantaro made a sound of surprise at seeing the detective's face rather than his small friend's. 

"Oh, it's you. Sorry, I could've sworn Kokichi would be here." Rantaro's tone changed mid-sentence from intimidating to harmless. It sent shivers down Kokichi's spine, he knew he was in trouble. Rantaro gave a too-friendly smile and asked the detective, "You wouldn't have happened to see him recently, would you?" His had returned to an eerie tone. Ouma had only ever seen him like this a few times in his life, but it almost never ended well. There had been a few times Rantaro had caught someone trying to hurt Kokichi, and in those moments, it was like Rantaro was a completely different person. 

Kokichi remembered when one of the boys in their high school who had come from the same middle school, and consequentially knew Ouma's past, had pinned him to the ground. Little did the punk know at the time that he had attacked Kokichi in he and Rantaro's designated meeting spot. The punk got a few good punches before Kokichi felt his attacker's weight being pulled off of him violently. Rantaro had grabbed the kid by the back of his shirt and yanked him off of his friend, throwing him to the ground viciously. Rantaro's eyes were the only part of his face that showed any shred of emotion as he kicked and stomped onto the bully writhing beneath his shoes. They were filled with a poisonous blackness, pure hatred. Blood trickled from Kokichi's face as he watched with wide eyes as the tall boy mercilessly pressed his shoe against the bloodied bully's throat, threatening to crush his windpipe. 

That boy spent a few weeks recovering in the hospital, but no one ever found out that Rantaro was the culprit. His oppressor had never so much as looked in Kokichi's direction again. That was when he had discovered that his friend had a darker side, and that he was fiercely protective of his childhood friend. 

"N-no, he hasn't been here." Saihara stumbled backwards, taken off guard by Rantaro's changing tone.  _Dammit._ Why did Saihara have to be such a shitty liar. Rantaro was used  to Kokichi, the Ultimate Liar himself, there's no way he would fall for Saihara's pathetic attempt. Kokichi held his breath. 

"...Is that so? I see. I'll have to keep looking then, thanks Saihara-kun!" Saihara nodded cautiously as Rantaro waved goodbye, seemingly back to his normal self. 

The door closed and Saihara instantly breathed a sigh of relief. Ouma unraveled himself from the mess of blankets and wondered if Rantaro had been on to them the whole time.

The detective had tried to pry into the reasons behind what had just happened, but Ouma wouldn't give him any information, simply telling him to stop being nosy. Saihara mentioned something about being late to training, and the small boy took the opportunity to usher the detective out the door. Ouma would normally be pining for his attention, but right now he just needed to be alone with his thoughts. 

"Text me if you need me, okay?" Saihara said worriedly as he shut the door behind him. Ouma sighed and laid down on Saihara's bed. It smelled just like him. He thought about what to do about Rantaro. 

He understood why he was so upset. He had probably happened to overhear Ouma's earlier conversation with Kiibo and Iruma, where Ouma had agreed to go to Iruma's party. They hadn't exactly been talking quietly. Rantaro watched as Kokichi broke another promise. He had every right to be mad.

After Kokichi had recovered from his addictions in rehab, Rantaro had made him promise that he would change his ways. No more drugs, no more alcohol, no more partying. Ouma had started to spend all of his time getting drunk and going to parties. He wasn't popular enough to get invited to parties, but Rantaro was. He would hear about them from his friend and go as his plus-one. After a few too many times of passing out in his own vomit, Rantaro stopped bringing him. But he kept finding ways to go and get his fix anyways, with or without Rantaro. Things were always so much worse without Rantaro there to watch over him. Eventually he began to meet other people at the parties he went to, now that he was no longer fixated to his childhood friend's side. They were the ones who didn't pick fights with Kokichi, who didn't spike his drinks, or try to take advantage of him. They were all relatively alone, not the types who fit into a party environment, but they stuck around Kokichi because they thought his antics were actually funny. They became familiar enough to call friends, and would eventually come together as the future members of DICE after Kokichi left the hospital. Things had started looking up after that. 

But Kokichi didn't like to think about DICE now, so he decided he was hungry as a distraction. He knew of a vending machine on the bottom floor of the dorms and decided that would be his dinner tonight. He made his way out of the room and down the hall. It was a Friday night, so most of the students were out of the dorms at the moment. It was empty and quiet. All he could hear were his own footsteps echoing down the glistening passageway. He came to the intersection just before the entrance to the staircase and heard footsteps from behind him. He was reminded once again of that scene at night, but quickly shook he thought from his head, not willing to sustain another forehead injury. He was creeped out by the sound, but kept walking without looking back. It was probably nothing.

He walked to the edge of the staircase before stopping. He steeled his resolve and turned to look behind him. There was no one there. 

_What the...?_

He's not delusional, he knows he heard someone  _behind him_  just now. 

"Kokichi?" Rantaro's voice rang out from the staircase and Ouma was so startled he took a step back, only to remember there was a staircase there instead of solid ground. He felt himself falling backwards and flailed his arms in vain as he braced for a painful impact.

Instead he felt the back of his head collide with a soft fabric, and strong arms wrapping around his waist. His eyes shot open to see Rantaro's face staring down at his, long eyelashes fluttering in surprise. 

Rantaro had caught him before he had fallen down the stairs, apparently. Ouma sighed in relief as Rantaro took a few more steps up the stairs to help Kokichi regain his balance. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that, Kokichi." They stood awkwardly in the small space where the hallway became the stairway, Kokichi resting his back against the wall as he caught his breath. Then he realized who he was now alone with. The boy he had been avoiding like the plague all day was now in such close proximity. Rantaro didn't make eye contact with Kokichi, obviously thinking hard about what to say next, but there was still something bothering Ouma. How had Rantaro gone from behind him in the hallway to behind him in the staircase in a matter of seconds? That shouldn't have been possible. Maybe Ouma had been hearing things. Rantaro's voice broke his contemplation of the strange situation, "I'm sure you already know this, but I'm not very happy with you right now." 

_No shit._

"Nope! I had no idea! What did I do this time, hmm?" It seemed the taller boy was not in the mood to be play games right now. Rantaro's palms slammed hard onto the wall on both sides of the smaller boy's head. Well, Kokichi wasn't going anywhere now. He had flinched at the aggressive action, and opened one eye to look up at Rantaro. His face was stone cold, and his eyes glowered down at Kokichi as his dog-tags swung loosely around his neck like a pendulum. Kokichi swallowed hard. "I-it's a joke, Rantaro. Lighten up, buttercup." Kokichi flicked Rantaro's nose. Rantaro might be acting scary, but Kokichi already knew that he would never hurt him. Rantaro's eyes softened, and he raised his eyebrows slightly. 

"This....is  _not_ a joke to me Kokichi. Why did you agree to go to that party...? You know you can't handle your alcohol." Rantaro's voice started to tremble, "If something were to happen to you... what if you relapse...?" 

Guilt swelled in the small boy's chest as tears started to form in his best friend's eyes. He placed a hand on Rantaro's face and swiped the falling tears away, his black nails contrasting with Rantaro's light skin. Rantaro lowered his head until their foreheads were touching. If anyone saw them, they might think they were just a couple making out in the halls, but Rantaro was already no stranger to intimacy with Kokichi. Rantaro choked on a sob and removed his hands from caging the small boy in, opting to wrap them around him in a gentle hug instead. Kokichi stood on the tips of his toes as he laced his fingers behind Rantaro's neck and pulled him close. Kokichi's head spun from the sweet touches, and he briefly wondered why he had ever wanted to get over Rantaro in the first place. 

"It was a lie, okay?" Kokichi whispered. "I lied about going to the party, I never intended to show up." It wasn't the truth, but it was what Rantaro needed to hear. Rantaro was right anyways, going to the party was a bad idea. He was always looking out for Kokichi; protecting him. 

"Will you come back to my room with me for a bit...?" Rantaro whispered back to Kokichi. The implications of his words went straight to Kokichi's dick.  _What...is this....?_

"Y-you realize what it sounds like you're asking for, right?" Kokichi shot Rantaro a weird look in an attempt to laugh the situation off. But Rantaro didn't laugh. Kokichi's heart stopped. 

He pulled his face back from Rantaro's neck and met with eyes with the tall boy, he was blushing, eyes still watering. Kokichi breifly wondered if he had actually fallen and passed out on the staircase, he only saw something like this happening in his dreams. Just what is Rantaro thinking right now? 

A girl's voice suddenly rang out from downstairs, "Rantaro! Where did you go? Hello...?" It was Akamatsu-san's voice, accompanied by footsteps as she made her way up the stairwell. Rantaro gasped and unraveled himself from Kokichi's embrace, taking a few steps back. 

_What. The. Fuck. Was. That!?_

Kokichi tried his best to keep a straight face as Akamatsu rounded the corner of the stairwell and glanced up at the two boys. 

"O-oh! You found Ouma-kun, I see." She smiled politely, "Did you two work everything out?" 

 _NO!_ Kokichi's mind screamed.

"Yeah, we're all good now." Rantaro answered for both of them. Kokichi didn't move muscle, he didn't smile, or laugh, or anything. He was so confused about what had just happened. Rantaro had been weirdly clingy lately, sure, and it's not like they hadn't been intimate before... but it was supposed to just be platonic, right? Rantaro was straight, that was well established. 

Kokichi's heart sank as he realized he was probably just reading too far into the situation. Akamatsu skipped happily up the steps and grabbed Rantaro's hand, "So, you guys wanna eat or what? Cause I'm starving!" She chuckled lightly, and Rantaro smiled and nodded as if nothing at all had just happened. 

_Guess it was just me, then._

 

_-_

 

Ouma spent the rest of the day watching Akamatsu and Amami-chan flirt with each other while they all ate McDonalds. Ouma sipped on his Panta and watched them out of the corner of his eyes. It was always like this, he was the third wheel after all. They walked back to the dorms as the sun set, but Ouma purposely walked slower than the other two, falling behind. No one noticed, or if they did, they didn't say anything. He cursed himself for even thinking for a second that Amami-chan might want him. He would never screw up what he had with Akamatsu-san. Jealousy threatened to swallow him whole, and he stopped walking completely. He watched as the couple kept walking without him. Her arm laced into his, head resting on his shoulder. He watched them get further and further away with a blank expression on his face. It was fine. He already knew. 

"Ouma-kun?" Saihara-chan's voice? Ouma turned to look at his roommate with a towel hanging from his neck, his two friends on either side of him. "I'm surprised you left the room." Ouma snorted at the comment. 

"Yeah, I really shouldn't have." Ouma replied with a sly smile. Saihara tilted his head as if he was about to ask a question, but Momota-chan cut him off. 

"Hey, it's you again, huh?" Momota blinked at Ouma, "I guess we're gonna have to get used to each other's faces then, since we're both buddies with Shuichi!" Saihara lightly chuckled. He didn't deny the fact that they were friends, then...? 

"I mean it's not like you guys have to be friends too, but just play nice with each other maybe?" He was directing the request mostly at Ouma-kun, who snickered in response. 

"Anything for you, my beloved Saihara-chan~." Ouma was initially prepared for a confrontation when he saw the two with Saihara-chan, but they seemed to be on their best behavior today, so Ouma figured he could play along for now. Momota choked on air when he heard the nickname being used on his best friend without any protest. It gave Ouma a deep sense of satisfaction. 

After chatting for a bit, Momota and Harukawa said their goodbyes and Saihara and Ouma began walking back to their dorm. Ouma wondered fleetingly if Rantaro had even noticed he was gone yet. He rolled his eyes and pushed the thought away. He glanced up at Saihara's face as they walked. His bottom eyelashes were so ridiculously long and pretty, and Ouma realized he might have a thing for boys with long eyelashes. 

Hmm... He wanted to try something. 

Ouma laced his right arm through Saihara's left, locking their arms together as they walked. 

"Mmm...? What're you doing Ouma-kun...?" Saihara bashfully looked down Ouma, who beamed back at him. 

"I just wanted to be a little closer to my beloved, is that so wrong~?" Ouma gently laid his head against Saihara's shoulder, snuggling close. He could feel heat radiating off Saihara's face. Saihara didn't reject him, he just nervously cleared his throat. Ouma took a deep breath, preparing to do something he would probably regret.

"So... there's a party this weekend that Iruma-san is throwing... Wanna go with me?" 


	8. A Step Backwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys all SO much for the support! I can't even explain how much it motivates me and ur all so sweet and perfect omgggg <333

Saihara wasn't sure why he had agreed to go to the party, but his intuition told him Ouma would be better off if he wasn't alone. Plus, it wasn't as if it was unusual for guys his age to go out to parties or anything. Saihara had never been to anything other than a birthday party, and the rowdiest they ever got was a PG-13 rated game of truth or dare. Saihara had occasionally wondered if he had been missing out, too much of an introvert to truly enjoy his youth. However, he had decided that partying was simply not his idea of fun.

Fun... Fun was like, that day at the amusement park with Ouma and the others.Regardless, here he was. The party was in an hour, and he had already agreed to be there. 

All hell had broken loose when Saihara claimed he was ready to go while wearing a blue button-up shirt and a black tie. Ouma had begun being his usual noisy self, complaining that Saihara looked like he was going to a funeral rather than a party. Saihara could only stand awkwardly while being berated by his small friend. Ouma eventually rolled his eyes and stopped yelling, grabbing Saihara's wrist forcefully. He toted the detective into the bathroom, muttering something about 'fixing this.' The purple haired boy was surprisingly strong, even though Saihara himself put up little resistance. He dumped the startled detective off in the restroom and went back into the room alone. Saihara heard him rummaging through drawers and shuffling about before barging back into the bathroom. He dumped an armful of items onto the counter top, it looked like it mostly consisted of clothing.

Ouma turned towards Saihara and began loosening the detective's tie. Saihara blushed at the sudden intimacy. Ouma slipped the tie off and looked Saihara in the eyes, "Take off your clothes." His voice was low and deadpan. The detective's breath hitched in his throat, and he turned his head to break away from the stare piercing into him. 

"Oh...?" Ouma purred. "Why're you so flustered, my beloved?" Saihara hated it when Ouma played with his emotions like this. Saihara had grown mostly accustomed to the boy's joking, but there were times when Ouma would take things a step too far. Saihara hated that he actually felt something when the boy teased him like this. He knew it was just a joke; a joke in poor taste, but still a joke. This was the reason he tried to keep the troublesome boy at arm's length most of the time. If he got too close...

As Saihara expected, the small boy's laugh rang out, echoing slightly in the room. He told Saihara he was just joking, but the detective already knew that.

Ouma suddenly pivoted around so that his back was facing Saihara. 

"Pick one of those shirts and put it on. I'll wait." Saihara was surprised that the boy had been considerate enough to grant him an ounce of privacy. He carefully began unbuttoning his shirt, wondering if Ouma was going to prank him by turning around as soon as he striped. He wasn't exactly opposed to Ouma seeing him undress, though. Saihara assumed the reason the thought wasn't unsettling to him was because of all the times he had seen Ouma undress from his peripheral vision at night. Saihara was also smart enough to realize that that was a weak rationalization, but he ignored the thought. 

He folded his shirt neatly and placed it on the counter, then turned his attention to the options Ouma had given him. He cringed a bit. They were all pitch black band T-shirts. Saihara may have a guilty pleasure for the artists adorning the clothes, but he might feel ashamed to be seen in public wearing them.... again. 

Yes, there had been a time when Saihara loved sporting the shirts of his favorite bands, going to concerts and singing along to all the lyrics which he knew by heart. He had even hung out with a certain crowd in middle school who had the same interests. However, his uncle had wanted to make his nephew into the successor of his detective agency. His uncle had begun to crack down on the apprentice detective's wardrobe, insisting that he dress professionally. Saihara couldn't fault the man, and obediently complied. He had donated all of his favorite clothes to charity, and replaced his wardrobe with one that displayed maturity. The group he used to hang out with out lunch had rejected the changes and cast him out. It hurt him deeply that he no longer had a place to belong. That was when he decided to fully dedicate himself to the detective agency, gaining skills that would eventually lead him to be accepted into Hope's Peak University. He had no regrets for that fact, but he would be a liar if he said he wasn't saddened to bury that part of himself in the past. 

He smiled fondly as he held an old Fall Out Boy shirt in his hands. He hesitantly slipped the shirt over his head and looked in the mirror to adjust it. It fit surprisingly well. Ouma asked if he was done yet, to which he made an affirming noise. Ouma swirled around and met Saihara's eyes in the mirror. Ouma looked him over a few times with an innocent smile and nodded to himself. The small boy wordlessly left the room and returned with a chair from the desk. 

"What is that for?" Saihara questioned the small boy as he situated the chair to face the mirror. 

"The finishing touches!" Ouma gestured for Saihara to sit on the chair. Saihara had a bad feeling, but resigned himself to the chair regardless. Ouma searched the pile on the counter for something specific. "Aha!" Ouma shouted triumphantly as he pulled a bundle of bracelets and sweatbands from the mess. "Put these on too." Accessorizing had never been something Saihara was too keen on, but he slipped the bands onto his wrists out of curiousity. He looked into the mirror and almost laughed at how juvenile he suddenly looked. He didn't hate it, though. Sometimes, just  _sometimes,_ playing along with Ouma's antics could be enjoyable. Ouma gave out a playful whistle and Saihara couldn't help but chuckle a little. Ouma seemed so pleased playing dress up with the detective. 

"Alright, alright. Shouldn't we be going soon? We don't want to be late." Saihara urged. Ouma scoffed at him. 

"Puh-lease, being late to parties is more stylish. Plus, I'm not done with you just yet..." Ouma's sentence trailed off as he returned to rummaging through his belongings. Saihara watched him carefully, but the small boy had swiped something up faster than he could identify it, and held the item behind his back with one hand. Saihara tried to sneak a look in the mirror, but Ouma was way ahead of him. "No peeking!" The small boy used his free hand to deliver a swift chop to Saihara's head. 

"Ouch! W-what are you doing?" Saihara started to grow anxious as the mischievous boy moved in close to his face. 

"Relax, Saihara-chan~!" Ouma crouched down so their faces were directly facing each other. Saihara swallowed hard as he took in the details of Ouma's delicate face. His deep amethyst eyes looked heavy with secrets; secrets Saihara couldn't help but want to unravel. 

Saihara tried to ground himself, but gasped as he felt Ouma slide into his lap. It was a situation that was all too familiar to him, and Saihara felt a warm, glowing feeling spreading in his chest.

Just what was this feeling? Not even the nationally-renowned detective himself could figure it out. Ouma pulled the item out from behind his back; it was a thin, black tube. Saihara wasn't sure what it was, but he had begun to feel anxious. 

"Can I?" Ouma tilted his head daintily to the side, wide eyes staring questioningly at the flustered boy. Saihara felt his heart rate increasing, unsure of what was going on. 

"Can you... what?" Saihara blinked in confusion. His mind raced through possibilities of what Ouma could possibly be thinking.  _Does he mean...?_

Ouma's wide eyes narrowed slightly, his head returning to a normal position. "Have you never seen eyeliner before?" Ouma quirked an eyebrow up at Saihara, and suddenly everything about this bizarre situation clicked into place. _Wait..._

"Y-you want to put make-up on me!?" Saihara was completely taken aback by the proposition, readying his hands to remove Ouma from his lap. 

Ouma protested, "It's just a little guy-liner! C'mon, I think you'd look cute!" Saihara realized just how ridiculous this situation was, Ouma was impossible to predict sometimes. He had truly met his match. Ouma pouted and threatened Saihara with tears before the detective finally stopped struggling. He realized it was useless to defy Ouma's whims. One way or another, the small leader always managed to get his way. 

"Yay~! Okay, hold still and look up now, Saihara-chan." The detective reluctantly agreed. He felt the pencil brush up against his lower eyelid, fighting the urge to blink. It felt so uncomfortable, and he felt a rush of appreciation for the female gender. Ouma paused and looked at Saihara with an evil smirk before moving on to the other eye. Saihara felt his eyes watering by the time it was finally over. He blinked and tried to rub his eyes before Ouma exclaimed at him to stop. 

Saihara glanced at himself in the mirror as Ouma removed himself from his lap. He was taken aback by the sight, his eyes seemed much more sharp and emphasized now. He hated to admit it, but he kind of liked how it looked. Ouma smiled and clapped in appreciation of his own work. Saihara felt the slightest bit of shame well up in his chest, remembering how he had been rejected by his uncle for having dressed this way in the past. It had been so long. 

"I'm not sure this suits me, Ouma-kun." Saihara lied in an attempt to hide his satisfaction from Ouma. For all he knows, Ouma might just be pranking him right now...

"Why're you so afraid to be you, Saihara?" Saihara's thoughts were broken by Ouma's words. "It's just for one night, right? Just be yourself. Who cares what losers who don't even know you might think." Ouma's tone showed no signs of antagonism.  _Just be yourself...?_ Ouma continued, "I like you just as you are." Saihara's thoughts stuttered from the kind words. He was completely unprepared. He thought back to when Akamatsu-chan had said similar words to him, but this was different somehow. Had she ever even known the real him? He had never showed her this vulnerable, embarrassing piece of himself. Was Ouma being truthful? 

"Can I paint your nails too? Then we can match!" Saihara was still bewildered by the small boy's words, yet Ouma didn't seem the the least bit interested in that conversation anymore. 

Saihara eventually centered himself and responded to Ouma. He hesitantly agreed, figuring it was already too late to appear 'normal.' However, Saihara had started to feel like that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The detective gently smiled as Ouma brushed over his fingernails with intense concentration.

The finished product was actually pretty sloppy. Saihara mentally compared his haphazardly colored nails to Ouma's, which were perfectly in line and evenly coated. 

"Ouma, could it be that you don't paint your own nails?" Saihara concluded aloud. 

"Hmm...?" Ouma seemed to take a moment to process the question, he averted his gaze. "No. My.... friend does them for me." Something in Ouma's voice sounded uncommonly distant.

 

-

 

They had taken a taxi to the address Iruma-san had texted Ouma-kun. The balding old man in the driver's seat gave the two strange looks, and Saihara could've guessed the assumptions he was making about them. However, he felt Ouma nudge his side gently and snicker. The boy was really immune to being looked down on, it seemed. Saihara decided he could learn a few things from Ouma-kun after all. 

His confidence flickered as they pulled up to their destination, however. Saihara was from a humble background. Everyone in his family worked hard, but they certainly weren't rich. That's why Saihara felt as if the extravagant mansion he opened his door to see was going to swallow him whole. The manor looked more like a castle, acres away from any neighboring properties. It was several stories high and adorned with stunning architecture, statues and fountains framing the lengthy walkway to the entrance. Flashy lighting radiated from the building, and he could hear a distant thumping of a musical beat. His clients were often wealthy, but this was affluence on a level the detective had never dreamed of seeing with his own eyes. 

The taxi sputtered as it drove away, and Ouma appeared by Saihara's side. Ouma seemed to be just as astonished by the sights and sounds as he was. 

"Damn, looks like I gotta make Iruma my Sugar Momma." Saihara snorted at the comment as Ouma began to lead the way. 

The walk was absurdly long from the road to the entrance. Saihara silently psyched himself out the entire time. He couldn't help but wonder if he really belonged in a place like this. He was an introvert about to walk into a house filled with strangers. His anxiety crept up on him as he realized he didn't even know what you were supposed to  _do_ at a party.

Eat? Socialize? Dance? He had no clue.

Ouma slipped his slender hand into Saihara's grasp, his warm skin sending shock waves to Saihara's brain. 

"Hey, don't be so nervous. Just follow me, okay? Everything will be fine!" Ouma comforted the detective. Saihara felt relief at the boy's encouragement. Even though Ouma was a liar, Saihara wanted to believe his words. He squeezed Ouma's hand a little tighter, earning a lighthearted laugh from the small boy. Saihara couldn't help but laugh, too. Before he knew it, they were approaching the gigantic door to Iruma-san's house. The distant thump of music could now be heard blaring through the nearby walls. The doors were atop a wide semi-circular staircase made of marble. The whole thing seemed rather overdone, but Saihara couldn't contain his curiosity over what was just beyond the doors. Ouma led him by the hand, cracking open the glassy door to a world unfamiliar to the detective.  

Saihara flinched at how the music went from loud to overwhelming, the noise temporarily impairing his hearing. Multicolored lights blinking across his eyes. Ouma seemed largely unaffected by the intense atmosphere, leading Saihara to believe he wasn't lying when he said he had been to many parties before. Saihara wasn't sure how to feel about that. It hadn't even been five seconds and Saihara was already regretting his decision to come. 

They stepped into the dark room, which was crowded with students from HPU. The entrance was huge, hosting a second story that was open to view, crowned by a gorgeous chandelier that hung from the high ceiling. There were people swaying and dancing all around on both floors, blaring speakers set up around the walls. It was such a stereotypical scene that Saihara was amazed it was reality. 

He clung to Ouma's small hand like his life depended on it as he nimbly passed through the crowd. Saihara was pretty sure Ouma had never been here, yet he looked like he knew exactly where he was going. Saihara hoped that was the case. The sea of bodies crashing into him and swaying to the music seemed never ending. Saihara shut his eyes tightly and tried to calm himself. 

Saihara suddenly noticed the music had faded back to a 'reasonable' volume, and people were no longer carelessly bumping into his shoulders. He opened his eyes slowly. This room was much brighter than the previous one. Saihara still felt the warmth of his friend's hand and felt a wave of relief. He scanned the room, noticing the elegant stone floors and counter tops. He saw plates of food and arrangements of appetizers laid out, as well as drink coolers and fountains. So they were in the kitchen, then.  

"Sorry, about that my beloved Saihara-chan. Of course Iruma-san would just let everyone walk in to such a chaotic mess, she's such a shitty hostess after all." Ouma practically yelled the last part of his sentence, and Saihara raised an eyebrow at the strange behavior. 

"Hey! What the fuck did you just say, asshole!? I'll have you know-" Iruma emerged from a crowd of people to defend her name before realizing that the antagonistic words came from Ouma-kun. "O-Oh... It's just you... I can't believe you actually c-came." Iruma blushed furiously. Saihara was always taken aback by Iruma's senseless behavior, he briefly wondered if he would ever get used to the strange girl. 

"Eh, I had nothing better to do. So, where's Kiiboy?" Ouma did his best to sound uninterested. 

"Huh? Kiibo is here with me... Hey Kiibo! Get your fine ass over here!" Kiibo jogged up to the three of them obediently and politely greeted them. Saihara was genuinely relieved to see Kiibo. The silver-haired boy seemed like the same type as Saihara himself, introverted and a little lost in such a wild setting. Kiibo's eyes seemed to communicate the same thing to the detective silently as the two rowdier ones of the group bantered back and forth for a while. 

 

-

 

A lot had ended up happening after meeting up with Kiibo and Iruma in the kitchen. Ouma and Iruma had challenged each other to a drinking competition. Ouma and the girl had ended up taking several shots. Ouma had begun opening up to people around him, seemingly enjoying himself.

The four of them had played some card games in a smaller room for a while, too. A few fun-loving strangers had even joined in and created an even bigger party. Saihara was surprised by the fact that he was actually having fun. Ouma seemed a little tipsy and was laughing and smiling more than usual. His enthusiasm was infectious as always, and Saihara laughed along with the boy. 

They had ended up explaining to Saihara that the scene he had walked in on was called a rave. Apparently, it was only a fraction of what a real party consisted of. Saihara decided it was a part he didn't enjoy at all, but this was much better. After finishing up their games, they had returned to the kitchen and started drinking again. Iruma-san eventually excusing herself to go socialize with other party-goers.

Saihara started to understand the point of parties was in fact, drinking. There were a few people who were completely wasted, stumbling into objects and acting belligerent. Others were sobbing messes on the floor or making fools of themselves. 

Saihara had never tried alcohol before, but if it would make him anything like any of them, he wasn't sure he wanted to. Ouma, on the other hand, seemed like a pro. He took his shots without so much as clsoing his eyes. It was actually kind of impressive, in a strange way. He was surprised when even Kiibo began to drink a little, too. He wasn't nearly as collected as Ouma, though. He gagged on the bitter taste as the others made jokes at his expense. Ouma sat upon a counter top as he offered Saihara a drink. Saihara thought about it briefly, but decided to reject the offer. Ouma shrugged and downed another shot. 

It dawned on Saihara that Ouma had taken more shots than he could count on two hands within the past few hours that they had been here. Saihara knew the details of alcohol poisoning from his career, and therefore knew that Ouma needed to slow down before his blood-alcohol level became toxic. When he had tried explaining this to the boy, Ouma had started to get upset. He accused Saihara of trying to ruin his fun, and ran off into the hall they had originally entered from.

Saihara was alarmed by his sudden exit, and realized he couldn't chase after the boy. He was too anxious to go back into the room where the rave was happening. However, he was equally anxious that Ouma was now in that room. However, Saihara concluded that Ouma would be okay after Kiibo kindly volunteered to find and watch over the boy. Saihara appreciated it, but after Kiibo had left, he realized he was all alone now. 

He glanced around the kitchen, and thought momentarily about snacking on the trays of food. He decided against it, and started to explore the mansion by himself for a while. 

He roamed a long hallway with many doors, fighting the urge to explore every corner of the amazing residence. He wondered what was behind all of the doors, what secrets they might hold. His curiosity died slightly when he heard moans coming from one of the rooms. Saihara blushed, feeling like a creep for overhearing such lewd things, he started walking a little faster. Eventually he reached the end of the hall, which emerged into a small sitting area with a quaint fireplace. On the seat of a sofa laid a ball of white fluff. 

Saihara was curious about the object, and reached out to grasp it. He nearly fell backwards when the object unfurled itself and turned to face him with the sound of a light jingle. A pair of small eyes stared cautiously up at him. 

"A....cat?" Saihara breathed a sigh of relief. "You scared me, little guy." Saihara held out his hand to let the small animal read his scent. The cat's wet nose tickled against his palm, and it gently rubbed it's soft face against him in approval. He sat next to the fluffy white cat, petting him gently. Saihara had developed a compassion for animals after working on so many 'missing pet' cases over the years. He had studied the behaviors and handling techniques of several different types of companion animals, cats just so happened to be his favorite. The cat purred lightly into his touch, and the sound put Saihara at ease. 

He chuckled softly to himself when he realized he was hanging out with a cat at a party. 

He wondered how Ouma was doing. He was quite saddened when the boy had run off. They had been having a really good time, Saihara thought. He had been truly offended when Saihara had tried to cut him off, but the detective couldn't understand why. He had just been trying to do what was best for his troublesome roommate. 

Saihara had been so deep in thought he hadn't noticed the frantic footsteps rushing towards him until the cat on his lap had cried out and sprinted away. Saihara stood up in alarm, and met eyes with... Kiibo?

Wait...Wasn't he supposed to be watching Ouma-kun? Kiibo seemed distressed as he grasped Saihara's shoulders and panted. 

"K-Kiibo!? What is it? What's wrong?" Saihara briefly wondered if Kiibo had had too much to drink too. 

"It...It's Ouma! Saihara, please help! I'm so sorry, I tried to... just- come quickly!" Saihara's eyes widened as he realized the implications of Kiibo's words. Ouma was in trouble. 

 

-

 

The two had sprinted together through the corridors together as fast as they could. Saihara wanted to question Kiibo, panic rising throughout his body as he thought about the worst case scenarios. He decided it would be best to rush now and ask questions later. They made it to the kitchen within a few seconds and Kiibo began to run out into the rave room. Saihara hesitated slightly, but steeled his resolve and ran to catch up with the silver-haired boy. 

This time, Ouma wan't there to hold his hand. It was hard to run through the crowd of bodies, constantly shifting and getting in his way. The music threatening to make him deaf, he couldn't understand how any of these people were able to handle this ambiance. It smelled like sweat and alcohol, and Saihara couldn't get out of there fast enough. He felt himself inwardly cheer as he saw Kiibo heading for the exit. The two burst through the doors and Saihara breathed in fresh air in gasps as he panted from the fatigue. 

Saihara saw the distinct purple highlights of Ouma's hair from the corner of his eye. The boy was sitting on the steps with two other people that Saihara did not recognize. One was a tall man with long black hair who wore a strange black mask covering the lower half of his face. The other was a tanned girl with white pigtails who was scantily dressed in a bikini top and shorts. Ouma swayed slightly back and forth on the steps and extended a hand towards the girl. She beamed at him with a strange look in her eyes. Saihara had no idea what was going on, but these strangers Ouma was with seemed shady. The tan girl pulled something out of a plastic baggie from her shorts and tried handing it over to Ouma.  

Kiibo shouted and paced swiftly up to the group, and Saihara jogged closely behind, doing his best to gauge the situation. 

"Ouma! I told you, you must not do that sort of thing!" Kiibo tried to grab the object in the girl's hand, but she quickly reacted by swiping her hand away from the silver-haired boy's reach. 

"Ah-ah-ah! You mustn't steal from a disciple of God, heathen, lest you burn in the fires of hell!"  _What the?_  The girl's words were ludicrous on their own, but she has a sickeningly cheerful tone to accompany them that made it all the more unsettling. The masked man chuckled darkly, 

"Oh Angie, you always say the most interesting things. Religion is truly a profound influence on the minds of fragile humans, don't you think?" The man spoke in a languid tone as he made eye contact with Saihara. The detective supposed the question was directed at him, but he had no intention of answering. He only had one thing on his mind;  _Why is Ouma hanging out with these shady people?_

Ouma seemed out of it, his hand was still extended as if he hadn't registered what had happened at all. 

"Okay, enough! Kiibo, please explain what's going on." Saihara couldn't stand being so confused any longer, he demanded an explanation from Kiibo. He seemed to flinch at the sudden raise of Saihara's voice, and the detective felt a tad guilty. 

"I'm sorry, Saihara-chan. By the time I caught up with Ouma he had been chatting with these two out here. I tried to stop it, but..." Kiibo trailed off nervously. 

"Hey-hey! Why're you acting like his babysitter, hmm? A little Ecstasy never hurt anyone!" The white-haired girl chimed in at Kiibo's hesitance. Suddenly everything fell into place in Saihara's mind. 

Saihara was familiar with even the most uncommon of poisons and drugs. Ecstasy, or MDMA, was a drug often referred to as the 'party drug.' The chemicals stimulate euphoria, arousal, and empathy, causing the user to feel an uncommonly strong high. Ouma threw his head back and giggled at the sky. Saihara didn't know how to react to this.  _Ouma-kun had been doing drugs._

Kiibo's eyes began to water and his voice was shaking as he apologized profusely, "I'm so sorry, Saihara! I failed. I tried to stop him but, he pushed me off of him. I wasn't strong enough, I'm so sorry." Saihara wasn't focused on Kiibo's apology as he approached Ouma with a straight face. He had already been drunk out of his mind, but now this? The effects on his body when he crashed were going to be catastrophic. Why had he done something so irresponsible? If Saihara hadn't been so concerned, he would've considered slapping the small boy.  

Saihara shook all the thoughts away as he approached the hysterical Ouma. Saihara curled an arm around his back and lifted him up off the steps. Ouma weakly tried to push Saihara off of him, "Go away! You're mean and I hate you, Shuichi!" Ouma sounded like a child as he whined at being dragged away from his newfound 'friends.' 

Kiibo chimed in, "Come this way, Saihara. There is a door to a side room Iruma-san showed me earlier around the corner. Let's have Ouma rest there." Saihara nodded solemnly. This wasn't how he had expected this night to go at all. 

Kiibo walked around to Ouma's other side and helped Saihara support Ouma's weight as they began to walk away. They hadn't walked five feet before Saihara heard the creepy man's voice ring out behind them, 

"Hmm... You're at a college party and you're surprised that people are doing drugs." He chuckled to himself and Saihara stopped in his tracks. "You must really like that boy to be taking care of him, he seemed quite troublesome, even sober. Could you perhaps be his boyfriend?" Saihara wasn't sure if the tall boy was trying to offend him, or if he was genuinely curious. Saihara wanted to think of a response, to stand up for himself, but Kiibo ushered him to continue walking. And so they left those two shady people to their own devices while toting Ouma off to the aforementioned room. 

 

 

-

 

Saihara had a feeling they were in Iruma-san's room. It was pink and well-decorated, yet had scattered mechanical parts strewn about and a workbench that clashed with the otherwise girlish feel. There was a large king sized bed in the center of the room, framed by a white curtain. This seemed like a room more fit for a princess than a college student. The boys kept the lights off as they helped Ouma on to the bed. He had quieted down a lot in the small time it took them to arrive at the room. 

The two sober boys looked at each other with pure exhaustion. Saihara looked at the large clock hanging on the adjacent wall and saw that it was 3 AM. He almost found that hard to believe, time had flown by since they first arrived. It all seemed like a blur now. 

Kiibo looked like he was struggling to find the right words to say. Saihara knew the boy was disappointed in himself for not being able to prevent this outcome, but Saihara didn't blame him at all. If anyone was to blame, it was Ouma himself. Saihara wanted to find the words to comfort Kiibo, but they wouldn't come. The two stared awkwardly at the floor for some time. Ouma began to moan with discomfort, catching them off guard. 

"He must be coming down now. The effects won't be pretty." Saihara muttered in a troubled voice. 

"Yes. Luckily, this room is also equipped with a private bathroom, if needed." Kiibo responded. 

Saihara stared at Kiibo intensely for a moment after that comment, causing the silver-haired boy to shift uncomfortably. 

"Kiibo... You said Iruma-san showed you the door to this room earlier, right?" Kiibo nodded, and Saihara continued. "Then tell me, how exactly did you know this room had a bathroom in it?" 

Kiibo seemed to realize his mistake as his face flushed red. "W-what? Um, oh, well... I think Iruma-san might have told me about it or something? I don't recall." The boy was obviously lying, so that means... 

"Iruma-san took you to this room by herself earlier tonight, then?" Saihara hadn't meant to voice his theory out loud. He didn't want to embarrass his friend, but it seemed the damage was done. Kiibo stuttered and blushed furiously at the accusation, 

"I-it is not what you think! We were not doing anything weird, really! It-it was for.... our project!" The poor boy couldn't seem to contain his embarrassment as he started making his way to the door. "S-speaking of which, I need to go check on Iruma-san as well, and let her know we're borrowing her- I mean,  _this_  room!" The door slammed behind Kiibo as he made his emergency exit. It was back to complete silence in the dark room, save for Ouma's breathing. Saihara looked down at the boy. He had been so quiet that Saihara had thought he was asleep, but purple eyes looked back at him from the below. They were hazy and tired, and Ouma's expression was one of anguished confusion. 

"Where are we...?" Ouma croaked. Saihara tried to maintain his patience with the disoriented boy, but he just couldn't understand why he had done such reckless things earlier. "Where's Angie, she still woes me some stuffs..." Ouma began to sit himself up as he slurred his words. Even if the effects of the drug were wearing thin, that didn't change the copious amounts of alcohol Ouma was currently under the influence of. 

"No, Ouma-kun. You're done for the night. Go to sleep." Saihara tried to be gentle as he put his hand on Ouma's shoulder to push him back down. Ouma violently swatted his hand away and attempted to swing himself off the bed, stumbling on his feet and falling into Saihara's chest. Saihara was startled. He had never taken care of a drunk person before, but he was pretty sure he knew what to do. He walked Ouma-kun to the bathroom and sat him down on the floor. Saihara remembered seeing a mini-fridge near Iruma-san's desk, and hoped there would be water in there. As he went to go check, he nearly did a double-take in the mirror as he caught his own reflection. 

He had completely forgotten how he had been dressed. He was still wearing the Fall Out Boy T-shirt, black nails, wristbands, and a slightly smudged hint of eyeliner under his eyes. It reminded him of how Ouma had been earlier. He smiled at the memory of them getting ready for the party, Saihara just wishes things had gone a little differently. He realized that he found it hard to stay angry at Ouma. He would reprimand the boy's actions later, but right now, he just needed to take care of him. He retrieved a water bottle and returned to the bathroom, where he heard Ouma quietly sobbing. When he entered the bathroom, he saw Ouma curled over the toilet and gagging. He had been throwing up. 

Saihara felt bad that he had left him alone for a even second as he dropped to his knees by Ouma's side and patted his back gently. Ouma barely acknowledged him as he heaved again. Saihara threaded his hands through Ouma's soft hair and held it away from his face as he vomited again. It was a nauseating and offensive sound, but as the small boy coughed and hacked, Saihara just wanted to comfort him. Saihara took one of the bands off of his wrists and used it to tie Ouma's hair back in a small ponytail. His sickness lasted for a minute or so, before Ouma finally slouched back against Saihara with defeat. Saihara reached a hand to flush the toilet and then grabbed at the water bottle he had brought for Ouma. He held the lip up to Ouma's mouth and tipped it slightly, helping the boy in his arms drink. Ouma downed the entire bottle, finishing with a deep breath. They were still sitting in front of the toilet in case Ouma needed to throw up again. Ouma sniffled and looked up at Saihara from his arms. 

"Why're you even here...?" Saihara could tell Ouma was starting to sober up just a bit, but he still wasn't his usual self. "You coulda jus' gone home." 

Saihara shook his head lightly in response. "No, Ouma-kun. We came here together, so I'm going to stay with you." Ouma's teary eyed look gave him a pang of sadness. If there was one thing he liked about this version of Ouma, it's that he wasn't a liar. 

"Stoppppp sayin' things like that, or Imma fall in love with you, stupid." Saihara made a startled noise at the confession. The boy shifted around in his arms until they were chest-to-chest. Ouma nuzzled his head into Saihara's shoulder, where he could probably hear the beating of his heart. The hard floor was making him uncomfortable, but Saihara still felt that familiar warmth spreading throughout his body. That warmth he couldn't understand. 

They sat in silence for a while, until Saihara's legs started to cramp and he patted Ouma's back to signal that he was getting up. Ouma whined in protest, and pushed Saihara down to lay flat on the floor. Saihara's head hit the ground with a thud, and he cried out in pain. Ouma began to crawl towards Saihara's face until his lips hovered over the other's. Their eyes locked. Ouma's mouth was agape, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were half-lidded. Saihara knew what that look meant, but... 

"Do you wanna kiss me, Shu~i~chi?" Saihara could feel Ouma's breath against his lips as he whispered those words. Saihara clenched his fists in a jolt after hearing his given name pronounced by Ouma. He vaguely remembered that it was actually the second time he had done that tonight, but this... This was different. After the shock passed, curiosity consumed the detective. He pondered the question seriously. He  _had_ thought about kissing Ouma before. He knew his roommate was gay, and that didn't bother him. In fact, after realizing how physically attracted he was to Ouma-kun, he concluded that he himself was probably bisexual. 

However, kissing Ouma was a completely different issue. He didn't understand his feeling for the chaotic boy one bit. Additionally, Ouma was a pathological liar. Until he could weed out the truth from the lies, he wouldn't feel comfortable becoming intimate with the boy. For now, he wanted to keep his distance as a friend of Ouma's. He wanted to watch over him and come to understand him before he made his final judgement on his feelings. He needed to pull himself together and think logically. He finally answered Ouma, 

"N-no, Ouma-kun. You're drunk and your breath still smells like vomit." Saihara stated bluntly. 

"Tch! Jerk!" Ouma rolled clumsily off of Saihara and tried to stand himself up, failing miserably. Saihara jumped up as Ouma stumbled forward and hit his head a cabinet. Ouma cried out as he fell to his knees and clutched his wound with both hands. Saihara scrambled to his friend's side, and Ouma started to sob uncontrollably. Saihara was fairly sure he wasn't wailing so hard from a simple bump on the head. There was something else. Something he couldn't see, that was hurting Ouma. 

Saihara circled around the boy to face him directly. The detective cupped the crying boy's face in his hands, and made him look him in the face. 

Saihara kept his voice calm, if not a little strained. "Ouma-kun. What's wrong?" 

"I..." Ouma hiccuped, "I jus' wanted.... to feel good." The boy was a mess. Tears streamed down his red cheeks, a bruise forming where he had hit his head. Ouma seemed prone to head injuries. The darkness underneath his eyes seemed more distinct that usual, and he trembled harshly. Saihara wiped his tears and got him a tissue. He decided it would be best for Ouma to sleep this temperament away. Saihara wasn't strong enough to carry the boy, but he laced an arm behind his back and helped him walk back to the bed, like before. 

The boy was still hiccuping over sobs as Saihara walked him to the edge of the bed. The detective figured Kiibo would tell Iruma-san that they were sleeping here tonight. Saihara untied Ouma's scarf and set it on the bedside table. He slipped Ouma's over-shirt off as well, until all he was wearing was a tight, black long-sleeved shirt and his pants. Saihara couldn't bring himself to undress the boy any further, and hoped he would be comfortable enough to sleep. He laid the boy down underneath the covers, and realized somewhere along the way, he had stopped crying. He lay in bed with a slightly sad expression on his face, his eyes closed. 

Saihara figured the worst was over now, and made his way to the other side of the bed. Saihara briefly considered sleeping on the floor, but the bed provided enough space to accommodate both of them. 

Saihara's head hit the soft pillow and he realized just how much his body had ached. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. It didn't take long for him to drift asleep. The last thing he thought he remembered before he fell unconscious was the feeling of Ouma's arms slipping around his waist. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for the return of Saaihara POV! 
> 
> Kinda had no choice for this chapter though...
> 
> GDI ouma why u make bad choices


	9. Dependency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: graphic depictions of suicide below, please be careful.
> 
> National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255
> 
> I try to treat sensitive subject matter like this with the respect it deserves. I and many people I love have been affected by suicide in real life, I assure you I take it very seriously. I wouldn't write about this if it wasn't necessary to the story's characters and development. That is all o/

Ouma woke up with a pounding pain in his head. He groaned into something soft and comfortable. He was in an unfamiliar bed.

_Uh oh._

Ouma shot up frantically, sending a rush of pain to his head. His vision was blurry, but he could tell he was somewhere he didn't recognize. 

Ouma didn't usually get hangovers, so he must've really overdone it last night. He wracked his brain while rubbing circles into his temples to alleviate the pain. The last thing he remembered was arriving at the party. He had met up with Iruma and Kiibo, that's when they had started drinking. Then he vaguely remembers playing card games for a few hours, and then...? 

Ouma grew frustrated with himself. He couldn't remember anything. He shoved the sheets off of him and stumbled out of the bed. He glanced around the room a few times for anything that might give him a clue. He could only figure out that he was probably in a girl's room, which made no sense. He spotted a vanity in the room, so he decided to approach it. He quirked up an eyebrow at his reflection. It only left more questions than answers. 

His hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, he was missing his scarf and one of his shirts, but everything else was pretty much normal. Except for the bruise on the top of his head.  _Seriously? Another head injury?_

Ouma figured he hadn't had a one-night stand based off the facts, and sighed in relief. Besides, it's not like Saihara-chan would've let hi- 

"Saihara-chan!" The realization hit Ouma like a ton of bricks. How could he have forgotten that he came here with Saihara-chan last night? Another fuzzy memory filled the back of his mind. He was crying on the bathroom floor. He remembers throwing up. He remembers... trying to kiss Saihara? 

He hoped he was remembering incorrectly. He had only just gotten Saihara-chan comfortable around him, if he had pulled something like that, he could kiss that all goodbye. 

Ouma decided to check his phone for more clues. 

Yesterday 11:19 pm -  Amami-chan <3: Kokichi, where are you? I went by your room to hang out and no one answered. :/

 _Fuck,_ Ouma cursed at himself for being so careless. Amami-chan knew the party was last night, so of course he would check on him. He bit his lip as he thought of an excuse, but he couldn't find one before another text popped up onto his screen. 

Today 12:20 pm -  Saihara-chan <3: When you wake up, come to the kitchen, please. 

So Saihara-chan was still here too? He had no idea what was going on, but he assumed he was about to find out. He grabbed his checkered scarf off the table and tied it loosely around his neck. He decided to keep his hair up and ditch his over-shirt for now as he opened the door to the outside. A cold chill rushed across his face, and he winced. He stepped on dead leaves as he walked in silence, wondering what he had fucked up last night. Something  _always_ ended up being ruined by him whenever he got black-out drunk. Objects, valuables, relationships, his own body, you name it. 

It had been years since the last time Ouma had done something like this; and with the aches and pains he was currently suffering he wasn't sure he had missed it much. He had expected that, though. After all, the only reason he decided to come to this party and start drinking again was to spite Rantaro. 

Ouma felt like an asshole, and he knew he really was. Rantaro had been concerned for him, and was giving him the attention he craved. But the second the green-haired boy recognized anyone else as being worthy of his time, Ouma would start to resent him. He knew his behavior was disgusting. He couldn't even understand why someone as fundamentally perfect as Amami-chan bothered to put up with him. He wasn't worthy to lick the boy's shoes. And yet, Amami-chan treated him like he was someone special. 

The last time Ouma had decided to drink, just before he was put into the hospital, he tried overdosing on his father's pills.  

 

-

 

The day started just like any other. Kokichi pushed the snooze of his alarm clock for the umpteenth time. He was tired and sore, and he didn't want to go to school. High school had been just as hellish as middle school lately. He was just so tired. 

He heard the door to his bedroom burst open accompanied by heavy footsteps. 

"What on earth are you still doing asleep. Get up, you lazy piece of shit." His father's tone was hostile as ever as he grabbed his son by his weak arms and yanked him out of the bed. Ouma hit the floor with a sharp thud. He responded to the aggression with nothing more than a noise of annoyance as he curled up into a ball on the floor. "Tch. Whatever. It's not like going to school is going do any good for a leech like you." His father stomped out of the room and slammed the door sharply. His father's dissatisfaction with him in his earlier years had blossomed into a raging hatred. He would spit insults at the boy and threaten him, occasionally laying a hand on him.  

It was the end of his first year, the weather growing gradually warmer as color returned to the bleary town he called home. He walked with his hands in his pant pockets to the bus stop at the corner. He saw a familiar figure standing near the stop sign, texting on his phone with one hand. That was the boy he loved, his best friend, Rantaro Amami. He had a pleased smirk on his face as he typed away on his device. 

_He's probably texting his stupid girlfriend. As usual._

Amami-chan was so engrossed in his screen, he hadn't even noticed Ouma slip up behind him. Ouma laced his arms around Amami-chan's waist, as he was at the perfect height to do so. Amami-chan jumped slightly at the touch and chuckled. 

"G'morning, Kokichi." The tall boy greeted him as cheerfully as ever. Kokichi simply groaned tiredly against his back as a response. Amami-chan broke from his hold and turned to face him, tilting his head as he spoke, "You have a pretty impressive case of bedhead there, dude." Amami gently patted Kokichi's head. The small boy nuzzled lazily into his touch, causing Rantaro to laugh. "What are you, a cat?" Rantaro ran his finger's through the small boy's hair despite his teasing, trying to tame the mess. This was the only part of his day he ever enjoyed, the time he spent with Rantaro.

Before either of them realized it, the bus was pulling up beside them. Rantaro seemed surprised, and his hand jerked away from Kokichi. The tall boy shot him a guilty look, but Kokichi wasn't mad. He couldn't blame him.

Being gay in a small town wasn't easy. Many of the kids who tormented him daily in middle school ended up in their high school as well. The only difference now was that Rantaro wasn't in the same class as him. This tended to embolden his oppressors, causing them to whisper about him within earshot, throw things at him by 'accident,' or even trip him whenever he dared stand up from his seat. He spend most of his time in class with his headphones in and his head down, just waiting for it to finally be over. The teacher seemed to take notice of the treatment, maybe that's why she had decided to have him stay after class today. He stood in front of the teacher's desk as she filed through papers neatly as students left to go home. She waited until the two of them were alone to speak.  

"The boys in our class are quite rowdy, Ouma-kun. You see, there seems to be a rumor circulating about you..." The teacher began in a professional tone. "I can talk to the class as a whole about bullying, but it probably won't change anything." The teacher stated obviously. Ouma already knew this. He was bored and wanted to meet up with Rantaro already, so he cast his gaze aside to signal his disinterest in the conversation. Still, the teach persisted, "What I feel might be more effective, is if you yourself make an effort to disprove the rumors. I'm sure you can manage to make them understand that they have the wrong idea. If you just clear up this misunderstandin-" 

"Look bitch, I don't know who you're trying to fool here, but I sure as hell hope it isn't me." Ouma snapped from his building irritation. The outburst stunned his teacher into silence. When Ouma thought about it, he realized that was probably the first time she had ever heard him speak at all. "I  _am_ gay, got it? There's no rumor. There's no misunderstanding. I like boys." The teacher's brows furrowed in recoil of the statement. The teacher had probably been trying to convince herself that the rumors had been untrue, she probably didn't want them to be true.  _She didn't want a faggot in her class._ Ouma grew a sadistic smile as he continued to speak down to his teacher. "That's right! I like boys, Ma'am. I like kissing boys. I like fucking boys. I like-" 

The sound of a chair scraping against hard tile echoed through the empty room as the teacher stood from her seat and grabbed Ouma by the collar. Her hand was raised as if she was about to slap Ouma across the face. Ouma stared back into her fiery eyes with a blank expression. 

"Go ahead," He prodded. " _Do it."_  The teacher made a disgusted noise and wretched her hands off of him. 

"Get. Out." She lowered herself back into her chair in defeat. Ouma complied and began walking towards the door. 

So this was the adult influence in his life? These were the authority figures that were supposed to protect him?  _Pathetic._ This was why he hated school, he hated everyone who pretended that the system wasn't flawed, everyone that pretended he could've done anything to get help. 

As if his shitty day couldn't possibly get shittier, when he arrived at the locker room to meet with Amami-chan, he saw no sign of him. Ouma sighed in frustration and looked around for any clues as to where he might be. He checked his phone, but there were no new messages. He almost dropped the phone out of his hand when he heard a locker slam right next to his ear. He shot a vexed look at the offender, locking eyes with a familiar face. It was one of Amami-chan's teammates. Ouma hadn't bothered to remember his name, for good reason. 

"What's up, faggot?" The immature boy spewed the words at him. Ouma rolled his eyes and did his best to seem unaffected by hostility.  _That_ word had been thrown at him so many times by now that it had practically lost all meaning. Despite Ouma's disinterest, the antagonist strode closer, getting uncomfortably close to Ouma's face. "Lookin' for your little boyfriend? Tch. How cute." 

 

Ouma had stopped being afraid of being hit a long, long time ago. If this guy was trying to scare him, it wasn't working. Ouma simply snorted, "You mean Amami-chan? Maybe I am. Or, maybe I just came here to ogle at all the hot guys undressing. What's it to you, hm?" Ouma unabashedly beat the boy to the punch. These kids were so predictable. Sometimes Ouma had to spice things up by throwing them off with his mind-reading techniques. He giggled to himself. 

The boy pushed hard into Ouma's chest, sending him forcefully backwards. "You're fucking disgusting, you know that? Cocksuckers like you shouldn't even be allowed in here!" How could Ouma possibly be hurt by such weak insults? He was practically about to beg to hear something new, already. A couple of other guys had started to gather around at the commotion, laughing when they saw their favorite purple punching bag. Ouma didn't care one bit. He was fine.

Ouma waved a hand lazily, "Yeah, yeah. So I've heard." Ouma picked up his bag off the floor and started to make his way out. The boy was unwilling to leave the conversation at that, apparently. He grabbed Ouma's shoulder as he tried to walk by, pushing him backwards. Ouma sighed and shrugged, "Y'know for someone who is so disgusted by me, you sure like to touch me, don't you?" Ouma's joke was apparently not very funny, because the next thing he knew his head was slammed against a locker. The boy had grabbed him by the hair and threw him against the hard surface. Ouma choked down a cry from the impact, not willing to give them the satisfaction. After, it hadn't even hurt a bit. He was fine.

That being said, it was time to go. Ouma steadied himself and swiftly slipped past his attacker before he even had time to blink. 

"Catch him!" He heard a voice yell out from behind. Ouma just kept running. 

Unfortunately, the locker room was largely unfamiliar to him, so when he saw two boys blocking the way he had come through he realized he would have to find another way. But that's okay! He wasn't panicked at all. So... 

He would have to find another way. No big deal.  _It's fine. It's fine._  He'll be fine. It doesn't hurt when they hit him, after all. Their words don't hurt him at all.  _It's fine. It's fine._  They can't possibly catch him. 

All thoughts disappeared from his head when he felt someone grab the back of his shirt before he even had time to think of an escape route. 

"Amami-kun isn't here to save you now, faggot." He didn't feel a stinging pain in his heart at the words. He felt nothing. He was fine.  _It's fine. It's fine._

The breath left his lungs as he was punched in the stomach by someone. He gagged on blood as they laughed at his pathetically limping frame. It didn't hurt. He was fine. 

A few more blows hit Ouma hard, in the face, in the side, from the back too. Eventually they grew bored with the small boy who had never fought back from start. The hand holding him in place by his shirt loosened their grip, and Ouma went teetering forward. He slumped lifelessly against the dirty floor, feeling blood dripping off his face. It was fine. 

"Amami-chan..." He heard someone whisper the name softly, before realizing that someone was himself.  

"I already told you, fucking homo. Amami isn't here." The original antagonist spoke again, and brought himself down to squat next to Ouma's shivering form. "Wanna know why?" Ouma weakly looked at the boy's shit-eating grin through his hair. "Because, he's fucking his  _girlfriend_." 

The mask broke in that moment. 

His mask crumbled to reveal the pathetic, groveling mess he truly was. 

He wasn't fine. It wasn't fine. It hurt when they hit him. It hurt when they spit venomous words in his face. He was scared. He was alone. He  _wasn't_  fine. 

Not even the lies he loved to hear so much could stop the dam from breaking. The despicable truth came flooding through. 

Ouma screamed, and curled into himself. Tears flooded down his face to mix with the blood. He heard them cheering. They were so, so pleased with themselves. They had finally broken him. Ouma covered his ears with his shaking palms and convulsed into the floor as he wailed. He begged them to stop through his screams. 

"What's going on!?" A familiar voice seemed to stop all the chaotic noise all at once. Ouma gasped. He rolled over and tried to support himself on his elbows. He had to get up, Amami-chan couldn't see him like this. Amami broke through the silenced crowd and looked down at his friend. His eyes went wide in horror. "What? Ko...kichi?" 

Ouma's face was covered in blood, smeared around by the tears. He was a disheveled mess on the floor, and Amami had seen it all. Ouma wanted to die. Amami-chan knew that Ouma was being bullied, but Ouma always lied and said that it never escalated past insults. One of his elbows gave out, and he stumbled pathetically. 

Rantaro gaped at him, and quickly ran to his side. He propped Kokichi up and looked down at him with horror in his eyes. He held the bleeding boy in his arms, assessing his wounds and frantically asking questions. 

"Amami, what the fuck are you doing? You're supposed to be with-" One of the boys cut the other off. 

"What are you doing, dude? Why do you even hang out with him? Don't tell me your fucking gay too." Ouma-kun felt Amami-chan jump in a slight panic. 

"I-I'm not!" He rushed to defend himself with dread in his eyes. "He's my best friend! Wait a minute... did..." Amami-chan tightened his grip on Ouma's shoulders slightly. "Did... you guys do this?" Amami-chan's voice broke slightly as he asked a question he had clearly already answered for himself. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Amami picked the silent boy up as he stood, helping him steady himself on his own two feet. Ouma kept his eyes on Amami-chan's face. He saw a mix of heartbreak and anger swelling as Amami-chan screamed, "Why would you do this!? Is this why you told me Sonia had been looking for me?" 

"Jesus, dude, chill. Didn't realize you'd be so offended. It's your fault he's always creeping around in here in the first place. Or maybe that's just what you want." Amami-chan's dismay faded back into panic. He looked into Ouma's eyes with sadness. Ouma suddenly understood his place. 

He was a burden. He was an embarrassment to Amami-chan. He jeopardized his relationships, with women and with other friends. Ever since he had stolen that kiss in middle school, he had done nothing but make Amami-chan's life harder. Now all of his friends were going to start accusing him of being gay too. That was the moment Ouma knew exactly what he had to do, and exactly what he would do later, too. 

Ouma felt the adrenaline starting to wear off. The searing pain of his wounds making it hard to keep a straight face. Amami-chan frantically looked around at his abusers, begging them to trust him. All the same, his grip on Ouma never loosened. 

Ouma shoved Amami-chan away, stumbling backwards into the wall. Amami-chan looked at Ouma in betrayal, not understanding what was going on. 

"Oh, don't try to play the saint, Amami-chan. We all know you only hang out with me because we're neighbors and you feel bad that my mom died." Amami-chan sputtered in confusion at the words. He nervously shut his mouth when he realized what Kokichi was trying to do for him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the tall boy clench his fists, possibly fighting the urge to speak up. Deep down, Ouma wished he would. "You've had your fun now, right? I'm going home, you can stop pretending you don't hate me as much as these fuckers do. I'm sick of the lies anyways." Ouma turned around and tried not to limp as he walked away. He didn't look back as he heard the group behind him shouting cheers and laughter. None of the voices belonged to Amami-chan. 

He stumbled into a bathroom to try and fix the mess that was his face. He had a black eye, and bloody nose among other things. He ran the water and cleaned his face as well as he could. He looked up at his reflection. He spotted a bruise on his arm from when his father had grabbed him earlier. Ouma started to laugh a little under his breath. He looked at his ugly, disgusting face. He understood why everyone wanted to punch him, he would do the same if he could. So he did. The glass shattered as his fist connected, he cried out from the sharp pain. He looked down to see shards of glass sticking out of his knuckles. He thought briefly about using the glass to slice his throat open. He picked the shards out slowly.  _No,_ He decided.  _If I'm going to die, I'm going to at least have some fun first._

He emptied his mind of all thoughts and made his way home with machine-like apathy on his face.

He walked through the door as soundlessly as possible. The entryway was dark as usual, his father had probably passed out watching TV and drinking. Ouma already knew exactly where he was going. He quietly slipped into his father's room, making his way to the connected bathroom. He grabbed a few bottles that might help him get through the pain. Some painkillers, some antidepressants. He ran the sink as he took the pills one by one. He usually tried to be more discreet than this. If he took too many at a time, his father might take notice. But it didn't matter anymore. He was just so tired of living like this, day after day. He took several of each pill he could find. Ouma briefly thought about how taking so many would harm his body. He smiled at the thought. 

He slammed the cabinet shut when he felt like he had taken enough. The pain was currently in full-force, aching all over his body. He hoped the medications would act fast. He loved the numbness they made him feel. He wishes he could feel that way permanently. 

An equally addicting substance was the alcohol his father hoarded in the fridge. Ouma felt a craving overcome him and slowly dragged his hurting body through the house to reach the kitchen. He opened the fridge to find that all the beers that were there last night were gone. He stood staring into the otherwise empty fridge for a few minutes. The gentle hum comforted him, and the light from the inside was the only thing that illuminated the dark house. He had a weird thought that he wanted to crawl inside. He giggled to himself. The drugs must be kicking in. 

He closed the fridge and climbed on top of the counter to reach the top cabinet. His body didn't hurt anymore. He reached around until he felt a large bottle, which he grabbed and climbed down with. He glanced at the label and saw that it was vodka. Ouma wasn't opposed to hard liquor, so he popped the cap open and tilted his head back with the bottle to his lips. He grimaced as he tried to choke the poison down. It took him a while, but he managed to finish off the entire bottle. 

Everything that happened afterwards was hard to recall. He remembers shattering the bottle on the counter-top and laughing. He remembers music. He brought out his old radio and blasted his favorite sounds. He remembers laughing some more. His father was either dead on the couch or just so sick of him he couldn't be fucked to try anymore. He laughed more. He laughed and laughed and laughed when he returned to the medicine cabinet. His inhibitions were gone now. He pulled every bottle off the shelf and emptied them all into his mouth. He started fading. Everything was just, so, so funny. The last thing he could remember from that day was lying on the floor, surrounded by empty bottles, still laughing. 

Everything went black. 

Ouma had killed himself. 

He finally found the courage to end his miserable, pointless existence. 

He finally did it. 

Or so he thought. 

He heard a steady beeping noise. Heavy breathing through a mask. All signs that he was still alive. 

_Why?_

He felt something heavy against his hips. His eyes blinked open. The white room was bright, and it made Ouma dizzy. 

"Mmm..." He managed to mutter throatily. His body felt weighted, but suddenly, the weight was lifted. 

"K-Kokichi!" Ouma's eyes lazily tracked the voice by his side. Amami-chan was sitting by his bedside, his eyes wide in surprise. Amami stood up abruptly, his hands cupping Ouma's face. "Oh my God.... Thank God... You're awake, oh my God Kokichi..."  Tears began falling from Amami-chan's pretty eyes, and Ouma didn't really understand. He was supposed to be dead. Amami-chan was supposed to rid of him. 

Ouma wanted to try speaking, but he realized his mouth was covered by a bulky oxygen mask. He wanted to reach out to Amami-chan, but he realized his arms were strapped down to the bed. Amami-chan must have noticed his growing concern, because he pulled himself together and grabbed one of Ouma's hands. 

"It's fine, you're fine." The familiar mantra spilled from Amami-chan's trembling lips. "You're at the hospital, Kokichi. I've been here with you the whole time. I'm going to go get the nurses, okay? I'll be right back." Amami-chan left the room. Ouma stared up at the ceiling. 

He couldn't believe he was alive. 

Eventually, Amami-chan returned with the nurses, who talked in soft, sweet voices to Ouma as they questioned him. 

"Do you remember your name?" 

Ouma nodded. 

"Do you remember what year it is?" 

Ouma nodded. 

"Okay, good. We're going to untie these restraints now, as long as you promise you will be calm, okay?" 

"You don't have to talk to him like he's a toddler, y'know." Amami-chan chimed in. Ouma looked vacantly between Amami-chan and the nurses, quietly regaining all of his senses. 

Ouma nodded. 

He felt the tightness around his wrists loosen, and he let out a sigh of relief. The next few hours were spent running tests. The nurses had explained that Amami-chan had come over to his house after school, and ended up using his spare key to enter the house out of concern. He had found Ouma convulsing on the floor and called an ambulance. By the time they had arrived, Ouma was only hanging on by a thread. They had had to stick a tube down Ouma's throat and pump his stomach. They told him he had been on life support for the past few days. They told him he was going to be transferred to a psychiatric ward after receiving treatment. He may have permanently damaged some of his organs. None of it felt real as they explained with concerned expressions.

The nurses finally left, and Ouma was alone with Amami. 

They stood in silence for a long while, until Amami-chan finally moved to reclaim his seat by Ouma's side. 

Ouma was fully awake now, but he felt numb. He didn't want to meet Amami-chan's gaze. He was grateful that the oxygen mask on his face was making it easier to hide his face. That is, until Amami-chan grabbed it and pulled it off. Ouma didn't protest. 

"Why, Kokichi?" Amami-chan wasted no time diving headfirst into a difficult conversation, much to Ouma's dismay. He didn't know how to answer such an obvious question without being rude. The same reason anyone kills themselves, because they want to die. He was preparing for Amami-chan to tell him how irresponsible and horrible he was, as if he didn't already know that. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurting like this?" 

_Oh._

"That's..." Ouma hadn't been expecting that question. Amami-chan teared up again, but tried his best to pull himself together. Rantaro grabbed Kokichi's hand and laced their fingers through each other's. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I was a spineless coward. I should've realized sooner." Rantaro began as he tightened his hold on the small hand in his. "I never would've imagined this would..." A single tear managed to escape as it rolled down the green-haired boy's cheek. Ouma could no longer keep a straight face. He furrowed his brows as tears welled up in his own eyes. What  _had_ he been thinking. If Amami-chan hadn't been there, if he hadn't saved my life, what exactly would dying have accomplished? Looking at the boy he loved stare back at him in sorrow, he realized everything he thought had been wrong. He hadn't been thinking straight.

"Kokichi, promise me. Promise me you're gonna recover. Promise me you'll never do something like this again. I... can't lose you, no matter what." Rantaro steadied himself as he looked deep into Kokichi's eyes. Kokichi could only nod. He was amazed by how loved he felt in that moment. He and Rantaro had always been close, sharing the same bed for as long as it had been socially acceptable, spending all of their free time together, planning to create a secret organization, telling each other all of their secrets. They had started to grow apart after Rantaro got a girlfriend lately, but that was stupid, Kokichi realized. Nothing should be able to break the bond they shared, because- 

"You're the most important person in my life, Kokichi. You always will be." Rantaro stole the thoughts from his mind as he began to trace the small boy's features with his free hand. He rubbed tenderly over the blackened eye Kokichi probably still had, he wiped away his tears, and he ran his thumb along his lips. Kokichi was surprised by the show of affection. Even though they had kissed once in the past, most of the touching between them was standard for friends. Something seemed different about Rantaro suddenly. His face turned null of expression and the color in his eyes seemed duller. It looked... a little scary? "I'll do anything for you, Kokichi. Please, don't ever try to leave me again." 

Out of context, the words seemed a little possessive. Though, given what he had just put Rantaro through, he figured it made sense. Kokichi pondered something about Rantaro's statement. 'I'll do anything for you.' Kokichi breathed a small laugh through his nose and decided to try and lighten the mood. 

"Anything, huh? Then, will you kiss me?" Kokichi smirked playfully at Rantaro, who gave him an innocently surprised look. Rantaro blinked twice, before scooting his chair closer to Kokichi. "Huh?" Kokichi tilted his head at the strange movement. Rantaro placed his wandering hand on Kokichi's chin, and gently tilted his face upwards to meet their lips. Kokichi's noise of curiosity was muffled against Rantaro's soft lips. Kokichi clumsily kissed back, still in shock that this was happening. Their lips skimmed over each other's as Rantaro slowly pulled back. Kokichi stared into Rantaro's eyes for a while, trying desperately to find what had possessed him to do that. "I thought you were straight." Ouma stated bluntly. Rantaro jolted back from the statement. 

"I am! It's just, I love you, y'know? And I told you already, I would do anything for you." Rantaro nervously ran a hand through his messy hair. "Y-you asked, so I did it. That's all." Rantaro seemed flustered, and Kokichi raised an eyebrow at his strange excuses. Or maybe they weren't excuses? Kissing someone just because they asked seemed strange, especially for someone who had a girlfriend. Ouma looked up at the ceiling and thought for a while. He started to think maybe it didn't mean anything, after all. Best friends could kiss, there was nothing weird about that, right? More than anything, Kokichi just didn't want to get his hopes up. 

The nurse walked in and informed them that they would be transferring Kokichi now. Kokichi nodded again, not actually ready for what he might have to go through for the next few months. He gulped. He did this to himself. The nurse briefly left the room, and the second she did, Rantaro took his hand one more time. 

"Kokichi..." Rantaro's tone was low and his eyes seemed distant, even as he looked directly into Kokichi's.

"If anyone else ever tries to hurt you, I'll kill them." 

 

-

 

Kokichi wasn't sure why he had remembered such a memory now. It must've been the hangover. However, with the painful memory brought a newfound sense of regret over what he had done last night. He had broken a special promise he had made to Rantaro. His best friend had only acted the way he did because he cared. He had been worried about Ouma, and he had thrown that devoted concern out the window over a fit of jealousy. He was stopped in front of the entryway to the kitchen. He heard Kiibo, Iruma, and Saihara-chan chatting indistinctly. Before he gathered the courage to walk into the room and figure out what he had done last night, he pulled out his phone. 

Today 12:30 pm -  You: Amami-chan, we need to talk later, okie~?

He sent the message, trying not to sound quite as serious as he was. After returning the phone to his pocket, he strode through the entryway to the kitchen with a fake smile playing on his lips. 

"What's up, losers?" The three stopped talking and turned their gazes toward the small boy as he made his entrance. Saihara cleared his throat and began sipping a cup of coffee. Kiibo wouldn't meet the boy's eyes, and Iruma had nothing foul to say in return. "Hmm...That bad, huh?" Ouma shrugged and made his way over to the table they were all seated at. He sat next to Kiibo, across from Saihara-chan. He tried to make eye contact with Saihara-chan, but he wouldn't look at him. Ouma felt a little frustrated. "Will someone just tell me what I did already?" 

Kiibo nervously jolted next to him, and began whimpering "I-I apologize, Ouma-kun, It is all my fault." 

"How many fuckin' times do we have to tell you it's not your fault, you dense motherfucker!" Miu shouted as she smacked Kiibo's arm. Miu and Kiibo argued back and forth for a while, trying to tiptoe around their words in Ouma's presence. Saihara seemed to grow tired of the scene and finally spoke up, 

"Last night you got drunk and did drugs, Ouma-kun." Everyone went dead silent as Saihara-chan returned to slipping his coffee with an expressionless face. 

Ouma felt his stomach sink. He knew he had been drinking last night, but he didn't realize he had taken drugs too. Amami-chan was going to kill him himself if he found out. Ouma felt like a failure. He had promised to stay sober that day. He had left a scar on Amami-chan's heart that had never faded, even with every year that passed. And now he had reopened the wound. He was probably never going to be able to understand what he was thinking in that moment, or if he was thinking at all. He fucked up. 

Pain stabbed at his heart, he was ridden with guilt. He felt a hysteria rising as his eyes stung with hot tears. Saihara-chan finally looked at him with surprise as Ouma-kun removed himself from his seat and made his way out of the kitchen in a hurry. He ran outside and back to the room, gathering his belongings. He had to go, now. 

 

-

 

He stood in front of the door to Amami-chan's room and fidgeted nervously. It was the weekend, so there were no classes today, Amami-chan was most likely inside. Ouma-kun wasn't sure just how he was going to go about this just yet, but he needed to make it up to Amami-chan somehow. Just because he had one night of bad decisions didn't mean he was going to relapse, right? After all, he hadn't even remembered doing anything like that last night. Ouma itched at his skin nervously. He exhaled slowly as he raised his hand to the door, ready to knock. 

Before his hand could connect to the door, it creaked open to reveal Amami-chan, who seemed to be on his way out.  _Welp_. 

"Kokichi! There you are, I've been worried sick. I was just coming to check on you... Here, come inside." Amami-chan practically tripped backwards to give Ouma access to his room. Kokichi beamed a fake smile at Amami-chan as he entered the messy room. He was still unsure of how he wanted to go about this. He could lie to spare Amami-chan's feelings, or he could be honest and play it off as a joke if things went south. Amami-chan shut the door behind Ouma. 

The two stood in silence for a while. Kokichi studied Amami-chan's face while he wasn't looking. He seemed to have slight bags under his eyes from exhaustion. Kokichi couldn't handle it anymore, he was going to lie. 

"I'm sorry, Amami-chan. I didn't mean to worry you. Last night, I hit my head and Saihara-chan ended up taking me to the emergency room." He thought it was a good lie. He had evidence to back it up, and all of his bases were covered. He was surprised when Amami-chan stepped closer to him with concern and started to inspect his head. Kokichi shut his eyes at the soft touch. The tall boy brushed his hair to the side and ran a finger around the bruised area. 

"I see... so that's where you were then." Amami-chan sighed. He went silent for a moment, and Kokichi opened his eyes to see the boy gazing thoughtfully at the floor. Keeping his eyes glued to the floor, he dejectedly asked, "So Saihara-kun took you, huh? Even if he's your roommate, you could've asked me to take you." 

Wait. Is Amami-chan... jealous? 

Kokichi giggled lightly, "Is my beloved Amami-chan jealous that I didn't ask him to take me instead?" Kokichi was just teasing, but something in him wanted to push farther. He wanted to make Amami-chan worry, make him jealous. Kokichi knew that Amami-chan valued their friendship more than anything else. He took a sick pleasure from making the boy who would never requite his love squirm at the thought of being replaced as his best friend. Although, after everything they've been through, Kokichi wondered if that was even really possible. "Maybe my beloved Saihara-chan just loves me more than you do!" Kokichi continued to play his cruel games with Amami-chan's mind, snuffing out any feelings of remorse he might have left. 

"That's not true!" Amami-chan shouted as he grabbed the small boy's wrists. "That's..." Amami-chan trailed off as he looked Kokichi in his eyes. The small boy did his best to keep his trained eyes as emotionless as possible. The taller boy's eyes became glassy as he continued with a shaky voice, "You don't even know him. He would never love you like I do, Kokichi." Ouma nearly lost his straight face at the boy's heartfelt confession. Ouma loved to toy with people; he loved to make them suffer. But Amami-chan was different. Kokichi cared about Amami-chan's feelings, whether he wanted to or not. So when tears threatened to fall from the beautiful boy's eyes, Kokichi couldn't bear to keep up his act any longer. 

"Oh Amami-chan, it was just a joke, silly." Ouma wasn't sure if that was the truth. He and Saihara-chan would never have the history that he and Amami-chan shared, but he wouldn't deny his growing attachment to the detective. He still had feelings for Saihara-chan, even when he stared Amami-chan in the face. Kokichi was confused about his feelings. Even with his desire for his roommate, he loved Amami-chan; that could never change. Ouma's heart felt like it would be swallowed by the turmoil circling around in his mind. Of course the choice was obvious, Saihara-chan was single and possibly into men. But did Saihara-chan even feel the same about him? With the way he acted this morning, Ouma wouldn't be surprised if the detective never wanted to hang out with him again. Whereas Amami-chan would always be there for him. Amami-chan's love for him was undeniable, even if it was just platonic. 

The green-haired boy must have noticed the unrest on his face. He could probably tell that Kokichi was just lying, as usual, but he didn't press the issue. He directed his attention back to Kokichi's well-being. "Hey, it's fine, I'm not mad. Just..." Amami-chan trailed off once more, unsure of himself, "Tell me if there's anything you want from me." 

Amami-chan sounded like he was asking for orders. Kokichi thought about what he wanted, before realizing he wanted a lot of things. Things Amami-chan probably couldn't give him. He wanted Saihara-chan to forgive him, he wanted Amami-chan to break up with Akamatsu, he wanted to not be an antisocial freak. He chased the impossible away from his head and resigned himself to asking for something simple, something he rather needed at the moment. 

"Can you just cuddle with me for a bit?" Kokichi was surprised by how needy his words ended up being. Rantaro simply smiled kindly at him, understanding completely. Rantaro knew that Kokichi craved intimacy. All his life, everyone had only ever tried to hurt him. They hit him. Abused him. Insulted him. Abandoned him. Everyone except Rantaro, who has only ever touched him lovingly. Rantaro was his only source of affection in this shitty life, and he relied on him for that. 

Rantaro made his way over to his bed and sat down on the edge, patting the spot next to him to signal the small boy to sit too. Kokichi obediently took a seat on the edge next to Rantaro. He felt Rantaro wrap an arm around his back, pulling him in close. Kokichi felt a warm passion in his chest, and he wanted more. It wasn't enough to sit side-by-side as the object of his affections nestled him close. He selfishly wanted more. His craving for Rantaro's touch bordered on unhealthy obsession, and they both knew that. He grew frustrated with Rantaro, he should know this isn't what he meant. Kokichi shifted under Rantaro's arm and pushed him backwards. 

The tall boy bounced slightly on the bed as he laid stunned from being shoved by the boy in his arms. Kokichi giggled at the sight of his pretty green eyes open wide, his mouth open in an 'o' shape. Rantaro's shirt had ridden up his stomach ever so slightly, revealing his athletic stomach and his lean hips. Kokichi tried his best not to bite his lip and moan lustfully at the intoxicating sight. Instead, he crawled next to Rantaro, resting his arms around the tall boy's shoulders. Kokichi sighed contently into Rantaro's neck, and felt him shiver a bit from the sensation.

Rantaro shifted from his position on his back to lay on his side, facing Kokichi. Kokichi had to shut his eyes, feigning sleepiness. Rantaro was far too beautiful for someone like him to stare at so closely. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve any of this. Rantaro's arms linked around Kokichi's slender waist, eliminating the space between them. Kokichi couldn't help but bring a hand through Rantaro's unkempt hair, settling on his ears as he ran his fingers along the cold metal of his numerous piercings. They used to snuggle up together underneath the covers like this when they were children, too. They had stopped when they reached middle school, when Rantaro had gotten his first girlfriend. 

The girl had been obsessed with Rantaro for a while, and eventually he gave in to her confessions of love. He told Kokichi that he wasn't actually that interested in her, but he had figured he had nothing to lose by saying yes to her. Apparently, that was a lie. She had begun to take all of his spare time away from Kokichi. She had convinced Rantaro that it was weird for two boys to still be sleeping together at their age. She had tried to drive a wedge between the two boys, so Kokichi had gotten rid of her.

He made up nasty rumors about her, sabotaged their time together, redirected Rantaro's attention onto him by hurting himself. He did whatever it took to drive her away, until she had finally had enough. Rantaro didn't cry when she broke up with him, but he did when she had accused him of being gay to all of their classmates. She started to stalk Kokichi for a while after that, rightfully blaming him for ruining their stupid relationship. She had been the one who snapped the picture of Kokichi when he had kissed Rantaro for the first time. She was the one who had spread the photo around, effectively ruining Kokichi's school life for the rest of his adolescence. She was Tsumugi Shirogane, and Kokichi wished her nothing but suffering. 

Rantaro had been distant with Kokichi after that. He never got too close to him, never cuddled with him, certainly never kissed him. He had joined the school's football team and recovered his influence within the school. Kokichi never thought that Rantaro threw him under the bus at that time, but he certainly let Kokichi shoulder all the blame of what had happened. People questioned why he still hung out with Kokichi at all after he had 'molested him.' Rantaro just played the saint, saying that it's because they were best friends. All the girls fell all over him after he became the star player and eventually Kokichi had given up on ever feeling his best friend's affection ever again. Until he had tried to end his life. After that day, Rantaro had changed completely. 

He no longer shied away from showing Kokichi affection in front of others. He fulfilled every request Kokichi would ever ask of him. He became viciously protective of him, even willing to hurt those who put their hands on him. It felt like they were kids again, but Kokichi knew his change of heart had been spurred on by something dark and compulsive. Finding Kokichi half-dead from self-inflicted damage must've done something to Amami-chan's head, and Kokichi would never live down the guilt. Even so, a sick, twisted part of him was happy that his actions had led to Rantaro's reversal. Rantaro no longer hid how close they were, and no longer held back from showing Kokichi the affection he needed from the boy. He knew he was a horrible person for it, but he didn't care. He didn't care as long as Rantaro's arms stayed wrapped protectively around him, just like this.  

He felt the press of a kiss to his forehead. "I like your hair tied back, by the way. It.... looks good." Kokchi practically gasped at the unexpected endearment from his friend. He opened his eyes to see Rantaro staring directly at him. If Kokichi wasn't so good at controlling his expressions he would be blushing furiously. Was Amami-chan always this intense? He had asked for things like this before, but Rantaro seemed to be taking their affairs even farther lately. Showering him with love and praise he hadn't even requested. 

"Shouldn't you save that line for Akamatsu-chan?" Rantaro jumped a little at Kokichi's sudden adverse tone. The green-haired boy looked away, seeming a little guilty. 

"It...It was just a compliment." Rantaro shifted to put some space between their bodies. He propped his head up on his hand and seemingly changed back to normal. "Anyways, speaking of Kaede..." Their bodies were no longer touching, Rantaro had removed his hands from Kokichi, and Kokichi's arms only hung loosely around Rantaro's back as he looked up at the boy talk. Kokichi felt himself be symbolically shoved back into his place at the loss of contact and the mention of Kaede, though it didn't show on his face at all. Rantaro continued, "I know how much you wanted to go to that party, even if you lie and say you didn't." Kokichi almost snorted at Rantaro's cluelessness, but allowed him to continue. "It'll be Halloween soon, and Kaede was thinking of throwing a small get together with some friends. You're invited, of course." Rantaro extended the invitation to his friend. So they were having a little Halloween party then? And Rantaro wanted Kokichi to go so he could have fun while being closely monitored by someone who knows his issues. Well, that would've been a great alternative, if Kokichi hadn't already dropped the ball on that issue last night.  

"Hmm... sounds a little boring. But if my beloved wants me to go, then I will!" Kokichi felt a little sick at the thought of agreeing to go to another party immediately after last night. However, if he showed the least bit of hesitation Rantaro would catch on. Rantaro couldn't find out about last night no matter what. 

At the same time, Kokichi thought maybe he was being given a second chance. A chance to make up for his mistakes, and prove he could change. But did he really believe that? Did he really have that much faith in himself? Rantaro would be there, so everything would be fine whether or not Kokichi has the strength to make it so on his own. As long as Rantaro was by his side, he wouldn't let Kokichi do anything bad. Besides, this would just be something small, maybe 20 people at most. A party for friends. Did Kokichi even have friends other than Rantaro anymore? He realized he needed to try repairing the damage he had done last night as soon as possible. 

Rantaro began to sit up and stretch. He asked Kokichi if he was hungry. 

He lied and said he was, and the two of them decided they would go out to eat with Kaede, just like always. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowwww this was way longer than it was supposed to be... oops 
> 
> anyways the weekend is coming up so hopefully ill be able to pull off another double update soon, but for now its back to work for me~
> 
> Thank you guys as always for following this story and leaving me comments!


	10. Internal Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all your comments, they make me really happy so please keep talking to me hehe ^//^

By the time Ouma had gotten back to his room, it was night time. Amami-chan had walked him home so that he wouldn't be afraid of the dark. He propped the door to his room open quietly, assuming that his roommate was asleep. It was almost midnight, and there were classes tomorrow. Normally, Ouma would just be an asshole and wake Saihara up regardless, but he figured he was probably on thin ice at the moment. 

His heart stung at the thought that maybe Saihara-chan wasn't going to forgive him this time. Ouma remembered getting ready before the party with Saihara-chan, and how excited he had been. How cute Saihara looked with his eyeliner and how he blushed when Ouma climbed into his lap. He started to realize that night that he craved Saihara-chan's affection almost as much as he did Amami-chan's. Saihara was different, though. Ouma knew he had a crush on the boy, but he didn't really know what he really  _wanted_  from him. It might be a friendship, maybe sex, or maybe even a relationship. But could Ouma even handle a relationship? Or rather, could anyone handle a relationship with him?

Amami-chan was probably the only one in the world who could, and he would never have him. If Ouma wasn't trying so hard to keep quiet right now, he would probably be throwing a tantrum. He was just so confused. He dragged himself to sit in his usual spot on the floor between the two beds. He retrieved his sketchbook and started flipping through the pages. As he progressed through the book, he noticed Saihara-chan became the only thing he ever drew anymore. He hadn't drawn a picture of Amami-chan in weeks. The thought made his heart ache. He should be happy. This is what it meant to move on, right? 

But if that was the case, why did he still crave Rantaro's touch? Could he really move on from someone he loved as much as he loved Rantaro? Looking down at the pictures of Saihara-chan, he thought it might be possible. He loved the boy's smile, loved making him laugh, loved playing games with him. The boy was new to his life, but it felt like they were meant to meet each other. But Saihara, just like Amami-chan, was too good for him. Ouma nearly snapped his book in half with how frustrated he was feeling, he just wanted to cry. 

He was in love with Amami-chan, and feared he always would be. 

He wanted Saihara-chan, even in ways he couldn't really understand.

He didn't even know if either of them would ever even love him back. 

The detective shifted in his bed, groaning a little. Ouma stiffened, thinking he might've woken the boy. He would be mortified if he looked down at saw drawings of himself in the boy's sketchbook. Ouma sighed with relief when Saihara simply rolled over in his sleep. 

Hmm... Actually, that's weird. 

Saihara-chan always slept like a rock. Ouma thought he would be a light sleeper upon first impression, but he had been wrong. Ouma stayed up almost every night laughing at his own jokes, listening to music, and drawing and yet the detective just lightly snored away. He never fidgeted or moved in his sleep. Ouma quirked up an eyebrow and closed his sketchbook, standing up to peek at Saihara's sleeping face. 

 

The urge to mess with the detective crept up in Ouma. He had a thought he couldn't resist. He reached for one of the markers he had laying around and climbed on top of Saihara. 

Ouma planted his knees on both sides of the sleeping boy's waist and uncapped the marker. He knew he was going to get into even more trouble with Saihara-chan after this, but when his mischievous side came out he couldn't stop himself. He snickered to himself softly. He would probably draw whiskers and a cat nose on his face, something dumb like that. He needed to bring his sullen mood up by 'expressing his creativity.' 

Just as Ouma was about to start his prank, Saihara suddenly shifted again, turning his head to the side. 

The boy had a pained expression on his face, panting slightly. Huh?

_Is he having a nightmare?_

 

Without warning, Saihara's arm hooked against Kokichi's body and pulled him down. He felt his back hit the soft sheets.

Kokichi was a bit dazed, and not sure what just happened. Not until he felt Saihara's slightly ragged breath on his chest. Saihara had his arms wrapped around Kokichi as if he was a body pillow, gently nuzzling his face into the soft cloth of the small boy's shirt. The detective groaned once more, and tightened his hold on Kokichi. As the purple-haired boy laid pinned down by the sleeping detective, he felt his face start to turn red. 

Kokichi rarely ever blushed, he had a very good handle on his facial expressions. His heart started to race as Saihara's breathing slowed back to normal. Kokichi tried to blink away the pink tinge from his cheeks and took a deep breath. He and Saihara had gotten up close and personal before, sure, but now their bodies were completely against each other. Kokichi's curiosity got the best of him. 

He wrapped his arms around the sleeping boy, gently rubbing circles into his clothed back. Saihara's face seemed to soften at the touches, and Kokichi inhaled slowly to calm his nerves. He squeezed slightly around Saihara's slim waist. The way the detective felt in his arms just felt so satisfying. 

Saihara's body was slender yet capable, his skin was soft and his face was almost femininely beautiful. It felt very  _different_ from Amami-chan's embrace, but Kokichi definitely didn't hate it. Kokichi felt the same safeness that Amami-chan provided him in Saihara's arms. 

Kokichi realized it was a bit ridiculous to compare the two boys when Saihara hadn't even wittingly wrapped the small boy in his arms. However, in the glow of that moment, Kokichi finally realized what he had to do. He closed his eyes to try to focus his thoughts and clear his mind of confusion. 

He had to make a choice. He couldn't keep doing this to his mind, going back and forth and feeling uncertain about his feelings. He liked Saihara. He liked Saihara a lot. He had a chance with Saihara. As Kokichi faded out of consciousness, he realized the choice was indisputably obvious.  

He was going to make Saihara Shuichi love him. 

 

 -

 

Ouma slept like a baby that night. He hadn't meant to fall asleep in Saihara's arms, but it had happened regardless. Ouma's pleasant slumber was rudely interrupted by a high-pitched cry early in the morning. Ouma's eyes darted open to see Saihara's bewildered face staring down at him with his mouth agape. 

Ouma drowsily stretched his now-empty arms above his head, yawning loudly. He would deal with his flustered roommate in a second, right now he was so groggy there were tears forming at the corners of his eyes. He wasn't a morning person. 

Saihara-chan didn't seem to appreciate Ouma taking his sweet time to awaken, however. 

"Ouma-kun!? Why- What-" Ouma groaned sleepily at the detective's incoherent babbling. The small boy blinked a few times to correct his vision and landed his eyes on Saihara-chan. His dark, normally neat, hair was disheveled from bedhead, and even with his eyes wide with awe he still had a hint of tiredness from just waking up on his face. He just looked so adorable. Ouma giggled aloud at the detective's lovable innocence. "W-why're you laughing?" Saihara-chan sputtered nervously at the small boy. Ouma couldn't help but want to get more reactions out of his crush. 

"Hmm? Don't you understand what this sort of thing means, my beloved Saihara-chan? We fucked last night, obviously!" Ouma now feeling fully awake, he teased the flustered boy relentlessly. Saihara was taken aback by the comment at first, but he finally closed his mouth and furrowed his brows. 

"But... We're fully clothed...?" Saihara wondered aloud. Ouma wanted to burst out in laughter at how virtuously honest Saihara-chan was. He loved playing games with him more than anybody else. When Ouma had said that, he was expecting a outraged denial from Saihara, but instead he just went into full detective mode and explained to Ouma why that was improbable. 

"Tch! Ya got me! That was a lie." Ouma smiled calmly at the wary boy. "Although, don't think I didn't notice that you weren't offended at all at the thought of the two of us screwing." Kokichi leaned in a bit closer to Saihara as he continued to pester the boy, who seemed stunned by his claims.  _He can't deny it, though._

Saihara seemed to realize his mistake, and deepened to a shade of red. The detective abruptly shoved the covers off and escaped from the bed. He faced the wall, no longer looking at Ouma. The small boy promptly remembered that Saihara-chan had been upset him. He decided it would be best to stop his usual antics and be honest. 

"Aww... Rejected, huh? That's okay, I'll tell the truth now, just for you." Ouma sweetened his tone to no avail as Saihara continued to avoid his eyes. Ouma felt a sting of worry but continued, "Last night, Saihara-chan was having a nightmare. So I tried to wake you up, but your sleeping self decided to hold me down and cuddle with me instead. I couldn't get up, so I fell asleep." His story was mostly true. Saihara eyed him cautiously, as if trying to detect his lies as he spoke. Ouma was pretty sure they both already knew there was no point in doing that. 

"I'll... believe you." Saihara-chan admitted lowly, "But only because there's no other way you could've known about my dream last night." Saihara sounded convinced as he confirmed his thoughts aloud, ever the detective. 

A silence clouded the room for a few minutes afterwards. Saihara had looked at the clock and realized they had class in an hour, and started to dress himself for the day. Ouma stayed sitting under the covers in Saihara's bed for a while, trying to keep his feet warm. 

The detective seemed different. He was back to treating Ouma the way he had after the day at the nurse's office. He was treating him like he was someone to be wary of, someone he couldn't trust. Ouma figured it was because of what he had done at the party. He couldn't really blame Saihara, but he felt deserted all the same. Making Saihara fall for him was going to be more of challenge than he had originally thought. He had made so much progress with the overly-cautious boy, too. Ouma wished he could just turn back time and undo his stupid mistakes. 

As Ouma was deep in thought, he watched at the last second as Saihara picked up his book bag and made his way out the door without a word. 

_Ouch._

Guess he really was mad after all. 

Ouma felt a heartache building as he sat alone in the silent room. Did Saihara hate him now? He had just decided last night to pursue the boy, and he had woken up to this. It was like a cruel joke, one that Ouma himself would've played. He thought briefly about just giving up and running back to Amami-chan's arms. Maybe Amami-chan didn't love him romantically like he wanted him to, but Amami-chan loved him nonetheless. He could use a hug right now... 

Ouma chuffed to himself as he threw off the covers. How was he ever going to get over his best friend if he was this weak willed? It was just one little rejection, it didn't mean Saihara hated him...

Well, he hoped it didn't. 

 

-

 

Ouma decided to skip Criminal Justice today. He figured things would be too awkward. The boy instead decided to hit up a vending machine for a quick snack. The vending machine was hidden away on the first floor in a small side room with not much more than the machines themselves and some potted plants. 

Kokichi stared absentmindedly into his faint reflection in the glass. His finger hovered over the item number he wanted, but he didn't press down. He was completely spaced out. He thought about Miu, Kiibo, and Saihara. His friends seemed mad at him, but Kokichi thought they were being unfair. After all, Kokichi had no recollection of what he had done that had pissed them off so much.

 _But... I guess that's part of the problem._  

Kokichi sighed as he thought about what he should do to repair the damage. The only people he had ever called friends before were the members of DICE. That group was full of mischievous teenagers out to break society's warped perceptions of normality, though. Surely, he couldn't even compare his underlings to his classmates. His 'new friends' were much different. They didn't think like Ouma did. They weren't as easy to manipulate as DICE, who followed his orders with devotion. If Ouma had done something like this to DICE, they probably would've just scolded him and laughed it off. They were so much simpler to deal with, never taking things too seriously. Ouma caught himself wishing that his old club members were still with him, before smothering the thought. It was impossible. There's no point in thinking of them now. 

His new friends were distinctly different from DICE, if he could even call them friends anymore. They all had their own beliefs and ideals, and reacted to things in their own unique ways. It was so annoying. Ouma much preferred the order and peaceful attitudes of his organization. And yet, he didn't want to lose his new friends either. They were annoying, hard to control, and overly emotional; but they were his. Whether they liked it or not. 

Kokichi saw his salvation in Kaede's party. If they saw Ouma behaving himself and acting like someone who actually has their head on straight, they might forgive him. He would have to talk to Kaede about having them invited. That thought made everything click into place for Ouma. This plan was perfect.   

While Kiibo and Iruma would probably easily give Ouma a second chance, being as gullible as they were, Saihara would be a much tougher nut to crack. He was stubborn, smart, and cautious. However, he had a weakness: Akamatsu Kaede, his childhood friend. Her party was his chance. 

If Ouma could pull some strings, he could manipulate Kaede into inviting Saihara without him knowing that Ouma would be there. Then all Ouma would need to focus on is controlling himself around the tempting substances and being on his best behavior all night. 

Ouma smirked to himself. He would set his plan into motion after classes today, as soon as he had the chance to meet with Akamatsu-chan. He pressed the button he had been lingering over decidedly, and his snacks came falling down. He squatted down to retrieve his food, and as he stood back up he saw something that made his heart stop. 

In the glass reflecting behind him, he thought he saw a figure swiftly leaving the room. Kokichi instinctively dropped what he was holding and whipped around. 

He saw and heard nothing. He had a feeling now similar to when he had been walking that empty hallway the night he ran into Rantaro. He had originally wondered for a while if that presence had been Rantaro himself, but it just shouldn't have been possible based off of his location. Now, that strangely familiar feeling was back. The feeling of being watched. The feeling that you weren't alone. 

Kokichi knew he had to be imagining things now. If there had been someone else in the room with him this whole time, there was no way he wouldn't have noticed them. The room was small, and the boy hadn't been  _that_ deep in thought.  

_I really am insane._

He breathed a breath of relief and knelt to pick up his dropped snack. Even though he knew no one had been there, he still felt anxious as he rounded the corner back to the main hall of the dorms. Just as he thought, no one was around except the tired-looking employee at the front desk. 

Ouma started walking to his second class as he peeled the wrapper off his sugary lunch and bit down. He should probably eat more than sweets, but they were really all he craved in terms of food. No matter how much Amami-chan had always told him all of his teeth were going to fall out, he's always had a major sweet tooth. 

Ouma quickly devoured his food and tossed the wrapper into a nearby trashcan. He looked at his phone to check the time, and saw that he had some time to kill before his next lab, and he knew exactly where he wanted to spend it. He started making his way towards the Robotics Lab. 

Sure enough, Kiibo and Iruma stood outside the door just like they do every day. Ouma had approached his friends as if nothing had ever even happened. They were a little awkward at first, Kiibo still muttering apologies for some reason. After a little mockery, he saw the three of them gradually fall back into their routine. He wouldn't admit it, but Ouma felt relieved to be accepted back by the other two. 

Now if only Saihara-chan was this easy.

 

-

 

Ouma knew that Kaede had cheer-leading practice after classes on Mondays. He ended up texting Rantaro that he wouldn't be able to meet up with him today so that he could scope out Akamatsu-chan. Well, he didn't tell him that last part. 

_Today 5:30 pm -  Amami-chan <3: Oh... Okay? Guess I'll die \o/ _

Kokichi snorted at the response to being ditched by both his best friend and girl friend. If he only knew. 

Kokichi rounded the corner of the gym where the girls practiced every other day, heading to the front entrance. He was prepared to start spinning his lies as soon as he found the cheerful girl inside the gym. However, he was not prepared for seeing Saihara and Akamatsu seated together on a bench just around that same corner he had just turned.

Ouma immediately stumbled back around the corner. His reflexes must have been superb, because he heard the two continuously chatting as if nothing had just happened. Ouma had almost sighed in relief before realizing what this meant. His plan was ruined. Saihara-chan had found Akamatsu-chan before he could, and was about to be invited to the party. Ouma bit his lip in frustration. The small boy scooted as close to the edge of the wall as he could without revealing himself to the two. He couldn't see them like this, but he could hear them well enough. Their tones had a serious vibe, and Ouma regretted not knowing the context. 

"...always been, no one really knows what he's thinking, y'know?" He heard Akamatsu's voice finishing a sentence he hadn't heard the start of. His eyebrow quirked in curiosity at the subject of their conversation.

"Yeah...Well..." Saihara sighed in apparently frustration. "I guess that's my problem. I feel like I  _need_ to know. I don't understand it, and I'm sure it sounds dumb, but..." Saihara seemed to be going in mental circles almost as much as Kokichi had, but about what? 

"No! It's not dumb, dummy! It's perfectly normal, especially for a world-class detective like yourself!" Kaede optimistically shouted encouragement at her friend, earning a chuckle from the boy. 

"T-that's a bit much. You always did know how to boost my confidence, though." Saihara's tone was genuine, seemingly recovered from the turmoil he was feeling earlier. "I didn't always believe in myself or my abilities as a detective, but thanks to your friendship and encouragement, along with being accepted into Hope's Peak University..." Ouma felt a bit jealous at the heart-to-heart the two started to have. Ouma wished he could be a supportive, caring person like Akamatsu. 

Ouma was toxic. He infected everyone around him with his corrupted mind. That's how he saw himself, at least. He had even come here with the intention of manipulating his so-called friends to his will. And now, here he stood, eavesdropping on a private conversation without a single remorseful thought in his head. It was no wonder someone as pure as Saihara wanted nothing to do with him. Ouma stared down at his feet, contemplating just walking away and burying his feelings for Saihara right alongside Amami-chan's. That is, until he tuned back into the conversation after hearing his original subject of interest mentioned. 

"So anyways, Saihara. I'm throwing a Halloween party at my sorority house this year and I'd like you to come, if you're willing to give it another try? This one will be more of an intimate get-together, anyways." From the way Akamatsu-chan was speaking, it sounded like Saihara-chan had already spilled his guts about what happened at the party. Ouma normally wouldn't care if rumors about his shenanigans got out to his peers, but because of Akamatsu-chan's connection to Rantaro, the situation was risky. He would have to deal with that later, as their conversation continued on despite his concerns. 

"O-oh. Well, I think it'll be fun if it's a small thing. I actually had a lot of fun with Ouma-kun when we were in a smaller group of people. B-but don't tell him I said that! Like I said, I need to keep my distance for now." Well, Ouma certainly wasn't going anywhere  _now._ This was a lot to process at once for the small boy. So they had been talking about him previously? On top of that, Saihara-chan  _did_  have fun at the party after all? This was all news to him. 

"Yeah.... about that. I won't be mad if you don't come because, well, Ouma-kun is invited as well." 

 _Oh fuck my life._ There went any chance of his plan succeeding. 

There was a contemplative silence that followed. As Ouma figured, Saihara-chan was going out of his way to avoid him. The thought stung a little, but he didn't blame the detective. Ouma would avoid himself too, if he could. 

"It's okay. I'll go." Saihara-chan broke the silence with certainty in his voice. Ouma couldn't believe what he had just heard. "Just because he will be there doesn't mean we can't still have a good time. Besides, he's my roommate, so it's not like I can just choose to never see him again..." Ouma frowned at being talked about like he was some kind of disease, but realized he talked about himself the same way sometimes. 

Ouma didn't know how to feel about everything he had just heard. He turned on his heels and ceased his eavesdropping. 

Was he that much of a burden to Saihara-chan? Should he even bother trying? Should he just....die?

Ouma was often plagued by suicidal thoughts. Even after his attempt on his own life, he had never fully mentally recovered. He wasn't allowed to have prescription pills, either, so he had nothing to combat the depression that secretly plagued him. Ouma thought therapy was a joke, so he refused to go that route either. His only solace had been DICE. Specifically, Rantaro. 

Ouma had a dark expression as he pulled out his phone once more. 

Today 6:10 pm - You: A~ma~mi~chan~! I changed my mind, tell me where u are so we can hang out~

Ouma was so weak. He tried to fight his addictions and failed. He tried to fight his depression and failed. He tried to fight his feelings and failed. 

Rantaro's reply came quickly, and Ouma began making his way to his location. He would go to Rantaro and demand his affection. He thought briefly about what might happen if he asked Rantaro to kiss him. Ever since that day in the hospital, Ouma had never requested anything like a kiss or anything past it. Don't get him wrong, he wasn't above taking advantage of people for his own sick pleasures, but Rantaro was different. Rantaro had saved his life, and helped give him a reason to keep living. For that, Kokichi wouldn't be able to stand it if everything they did together was lies. He didn't want pity kisses from Rantaro, he wouldn't force him to be sexual with him because he knew he could never want that. He didn't like men. Kokichi had to remind himself of that every day. Kokichi of course wondered what would happen if he ever asked for more, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not even as a joke. 

Right now was the closest he had ever been to giving in to that temptation. He wanted to spite Kaede for being so much better than him in everyone's eyes, even his own. He wanted to kill his feelings for Saihara-chan, who acted so coldly to him. He wanted to pretend Amami-chan wanted him as much as he did, even though it would all be a lie. Everyone was just so fucking frustrating. He felt his emotions spiraling out of his control the way they only do when he has an episode, and realized he needed to calm down. 

Ouma stopped in his tracks and took a shaky breath inward. He clenched his fists and shut his eyes. Deep down, he didn't want to hurt them. He wanted everyone to be happy. Or at least, that's the lie he told to help get a hold of himself. 

Ouma opened his eyes slowly once he felt back to normal. He realized he was alone again, and the creeping sensation of being watched filled his mind once again. He was on an isolated walkway surrounded by tall trees towering over him. Their leaves fell slowly in the breeze as the sun began to set. It was going to be dark soon. 

Trying to make it to Amami-chan's location was a bit risky. There was a chance he would be alone in the dark if he didn't make it in time. Ouma heard the distinct crunch of leaves beneath someone's foot from behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see who was there, but no one was. Ouma's eyes widened and he felt the urge to run. This was starting to happen more and more frequently lately, Ouma wondered if it was a coincidence or if he was just crazy. 

He tripped over his feet a little as he started to walk again. He wanted to get out of this secluded area as soon as possible. The cold air sent chills down his spine as he walked a little faster than usual. He continually turned his head to check behind him as he rushed away. 

As soon as he emerged from the trail, he stopped. He could see the dorm building, it was so much closer than where he had agreed to meet Amami-chan. Ouma was scared, but as soon as he heard footsteps behind him coming from the darkened path, he was spurred on by adrenaline. He didn't even bother looking behind him, he immediately started running towards the dorm. As he got closer, more and more people started to appear. He was relieved to not be alone anymore, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed. He kept running even as he entered the building. The girl at the desk from earlier lazily called out for him to stop running, but he couldn't be bothered to listen. 

If there had been someone following him, they surely would've been gone by the time he reached the door to his room. He knew that, and yet he couldn't help but run through the door as if he was still being pursued. Saihara wasn't here, which he was a little grateful for. He didn't want to think of a lie or an excuse right now, he just wanted to catch his breath and slow his heart rate. He looked out the window and realized there was no way he was going to make it to Amami-chan in time now. He felt a little guilty, having gotten the tall boy's hopes up, but he texted him an excuse and an apology. Ouma sat on his bed, breathing heavily and contemplating everything that had just happened carefully.

By the time the sun finally made its exit, Saihara was walking through the door. Saihara and Ouma made eye contact briefly, before the detective broke it with a regretful frown. He began putting his things down on his desk and not saying a word to Ouma. Ouma rolled his eyes, even though Saihara couldn't see him do it.

"So, I heard your going to Akamatsu-chan's party." Ouma began, tired of being ignored. 

"H-how?" Saihara jumped slightly, but maintained his composure. 

"I told you, I have sources!"

This wasn't how Ouma had planned this day to go at all, but in the end, he arrived just where he wanted to be. One way or another, they were both going to the party. Saihara turned around to study Ouma as he always does, but tilted his head slightly after staring at the small boy for a moment. 

"Ouma-kun? Did you go for a run or something? You're sweating." Jeez, why did Saihara-chan have to be so perceptive?

"Yep! I'm super athletic after all!" Ouma blurted out. Saihara gave him a look that conveyed he knew the small boy was lying. Ouma just shrugged innocently. "Not that that matters, don't change the subject!" Ouma accused. 

"There's no subject to discuss, I did agree to go, but that isn't relevant." Saihara answered coldly. Normally, Ouma would grow frustrated at the hostile treatment, but he remembered the conversation Kaede and Saihara had early. Saihara-chan had said that he was actively  _trying_ to keep his distance from Ouma.

 _So it's something he has to actively put effort into, then?_  Ouma felt his interest in the boy become aroused once more. He didn't understand why it was so exhilarating to play these mind games with the detective, but it was becoming another addiction of his. 

"Huh? I'm pretty sure there is! After all, the last time we went to a party together we almost kissed, right?" Ouma daintily lifted himself up off his bed and pursued Saihara as he started to back away from him.

"Oh? What's wrong my beloved Saihara-chan? Are you  _scared?"_ Ouma's voice lowered to a growl as he backed the detective into a corner. Saihara-chan's back hit the wall with a thud, and Ouma moved to stand immediately in front of the boy. He trailed his hands from Saihara's shoulders to his neck, feeling the boy shiver as he shut his eyes tightly. He wasn't resisting Ouma's touch, but he did seem a little distressed. He rested his wandering hand on Saihara's chin as Saihara's eyes wearily lifted open. Ouma was so close he could feel Saihara's breath on his face as he looked down at him. "Or maybe, you  _want_ to kiss me. Is that why you're scared...?" Ouma muttered the teasing words as he looked up at Saihara with an impish grin. He felt Saihara's body stiffen at his words. Ouma wasn't sure if it was out of arousal or nervousness, but when he looked into Saihara's eyes, he could see that the detective was clearly stressed. 

Ouma was a lot of things; but he wasn't a rapist. 

He wasn't even sure if Saihara-chan liked men, so how could he possibly be sure if he liked him? Maybe the detective was just too polite. Doubt swirled in Ouma's mind and he lost his emboldened fervor. 

He removed his hand from Saihara's chin and took a few steps back. Saihara looked at him with wide eyes, as if he wasn't expecting Ouma to stop. "Just kidding, my beloved Saihara-chan!" Ouma did his best to give a whimsical laugh as he turned and started undressing himself for the night. 

"O-Ouma-kun!?" Saihara was still plastered against the wall defensively, as if Ouma had never left. He was blushing furiously as always; and as always, it was annoyingly charming. 

Ouma pulled an over-sized T-shirt over his head and turned back toward Saihara-chan, who was still straightening himself out from the encounter. For now, Ouma just wanted things to at least go back to normal between them. 

"I need help with my homework still... Can you...?" He trailed off, looking up at Saihara with innocence in his eyes, leaving the begging unspoken. 

Saihara looked at him with absolute exasperation, and yet, his cheeks were still tinged pink. However, if Ouma had to guess, Saihara-chan was probably grateful for the subject change.

"A-alright, fine. But if you're so concerned about your grades, you should probably show up to class..." Ouma giggled in response as they settled back into their routine. 

Ouma had a hard time focusing on anything Saihara-chan was trying to teach him, however. His mind raced with possibilities and scenarios. 

After all, Halloween was just around the corner. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the first scene was inspired by this amazingly cute artwork so please check it out:
> 
> http://iimojin.tumblr.com/post/167851249109/a-prank-gonewrong


	11. Playing with Fire

Ouma sat in the front seat of Kiibo's car as Iruma-san continuously poked and prodded at the silver-haired boy's accessories. She readjusted his hair and fiddled with his LED attachments. 

"How many times must I tell you two not to distract the driver!" Kiibo squirmed away from Iruma's touch, desperately trying to keep his eyes on the road. Ouma scanned the boy in the driver's seat once more, silently appreciating the details of his intricate costume.  

He was dressed up as a actual robot today, matching his personality. Ouma snickered to himself at his own joke. The boy's clothes had been constructed out of metals, lined with switches and dials that all had functions. It was seriously impressive, but Ouma opted to tease the boy instead of compliment the handiwork. Most of the credit was actually owed to Iruma-san, he had learned. She designed most of the components and put together the finished product, using Kiibo's guidance and passion for robotics as direction. 

Her own outfit reflected this, being dressed as a mad scientist. Of course, because it was Miu, the outfit had a sexy twist to it. She wore a white dress shirt, buttoned down to show an excessive amount of cleavage, and a tight miniskirt. A tattered doctor's coat hung loosely from her shoulders and inventor's goggles sat atop her messy blonde hair, the look was perfected by makeup imitating oil smears spread across her face and body. She truthfully looked quite good, but Ouma had compulsively told her she looked like a 'dumb whore.' 

"I still can't believe you two deny that you're fucking when you're going to a Halloween party in a  _couples costume."_  Ouma spit the words apathetically as he watched his friends recoil in shock. Kiibo started stuttering and Iruma flushed as she shouted obscenities at the small boy, but neither of them had a real response to his words. Ouma simply gave his signature laugh as the car pulled to a stop in front of their destination. 

It had been a very short drive, as the party venue was Kaede's sorority house. They weren't far off campus, but the three had opted to drive since none of them were willing to make the hike through the wooded trails that led to the houses on such a night. Ouma, in particular, had been against it after what had happened the last time he found himself alone on those paths. 

"Oh? We're here already. That was quick." Ouma stated as he stared out at the house with flashy lights strung upon the roof and the festive decorations on the porch. "Hey Iruma, as your supreme leader I command you to open this door for me!" Iruma seemed caught off guard by Ouma's demanding tone, making a shrill squeak in response. Kiibo spoke up, 

"What? Since when can you not open your own doors, Ouma-kun?" Ouma sighed dramatically as he gestured to his outfit. He wore an all-white ensemble that used to be the official uniform of DICE. It resembled a tattered straitjacket, complete with a theatrical long black cape frayed at the ends and a black military peaked hat with gold trim. 

"Duh, I'm a dictator, and you two are my loyal dogs. Now hurry up and get this door open before I have your asses beheaded!" 

"U-Uwah! Y-yes, sir!" Iruma-san flushed as she scrambled out of her seat to obey Ouma's threatening orders. 

"Iruma-san, you should really not encourage him..." Kiibo lectured to himself as he opened his own door to step outside. Miu circled around the car to fumble with the door latch before opening it for Ouma. 

The small boy hopped out of the car, flourishing his cape confidently behind him. He began to stride towards the front door before realizing his friends weren't following behind him. He stopped in his tracks just before reaching the porch and looked back at them with a questioning gaze. 

Kiibo stood stiffly gazing at Ouma and Iruma fidgeted nervously, peeking at Ouma from the corners of her eyes. Ouma shot them a curious look, and Kiibo cleared his throat nervously. 

"Listen, Ouma-kun. We agreed to go to this party because we see you as our friend. However, we are... well, we are worried..." As Kiibo struggled to find the words, Iruma seemed to be seething with frustration. She finally boldly held out an accusatory finger towards the small boy. 

"Listen, fucktard! We don't want you runnin' off and doin' stupid shit like last time, got it!?" Iruma exclaimed brazenly at him. Ouma resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  _What is this? An intervention?_

"Aww... Well there goes my plans for the night. Stupid shit is my favorite form of entertainment." Ouma sarcastically replied. Kiibo shot him a disapproving look, but Ouma waved it away. "Oh chill out! I promise I'll be good, mom and dad." Ouma didn't wait for their usual reactions as he spun back around and continued to lead the way to the front door. He didn't need those two to tell him that he needed to be on his best behavior tonight. He already knew that, dammit. 

He heard the two finally rejoin his side as he rung the doorbell. A few seconds passed before the heavily decorated door swung open. Kaede's enthusiastic smile greeted them as she stepped aside to invite the three inside. 

"Hey guys! Come on in, everyone's hanging out in the living room right now." Kaede instructed politely. She was wearing a generic 'sexy pirate' outfit she probably bought at the last minute. Ouma could barely contain his sarcastic comments. He smiled innocently at the blonde girl as she pulled him in for a hug. 

Ouma wasn't sure why the girl was so nice to him. When she and Rantaro had first gotten together during their final year of high school, Ouma had given her the usual treatment. Dirty looks, underhanded comments, and playing tug-of-war with the tall boy's attention. To his surprise, Kaede distinguished herself from the other girls Rantaro dated. She didn't grow a justifiable hatred of the small boy, she just played along with his antics. She tried not to take things too personally, even when Ouma wanted her to. 

She had a good heart, Ouma couldn't deny that. Her frustrations with the jealous boy's actions inevitably increased with time, but she didn't arrive at the same answer all the other girls had. 

Once all of Rantaro's past girlfriends had reached their breaking point, they did one of two things.

They would take the easy route, and just break up with Rantaro.  

Or they would try to convince Rantaro that Ouma was obsessed with him and that he should stop hanging out with him. 

If they tried the second option, Rantaro would always break up with them instead. 

Ouma wasn't sure why he took such a sick pleasure in ruining his best friend's relationships behind his back, but he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't stand seeing those girls throw themselves all over  _his_ Rantaro. 

However, Kaede made a third choice; one that Ouma never thought he would see. She took Ouma's hand in hers one day when they were alone. She looked into his eyes and squeezed his hands encouragingly. She promised him that she wasn't trying to steal Rantaro away from him, and explained that she understood how important he was to Rantaro. She looked deeply into his eyes, and Ouma knew she wasn't lying. 

Ouma had no idea how to react, he felt tears stinging his eyes at her heartfelt proclamation. He had yanked his hands away from the genuine girl and called her names, hiding his true feelings. She never lost her patience with him.

Ouma sat in his room that night and cried for hours into his pillow. Her words had finally forced him to face the harsh truth; he could never be with the boy he loved. He drove all the girls away so he could delude himself into believing that Rantaro was his, but that would never be the case. 

He laid his head on his pillow soaked in tears and decided that if he couldn't have Rantaro, Kaede would be the best substitute. She made Rantaro happy, she made everyone happy, and she accepted Ouma's feeling too. She was almost too good to be true. Ouma couldn't bring himself to take her away from Rantaro. His best friend needed her light. Sometimes, Ouma thought maybe he did too. She was a good friend, and despite the fact that they argued constantly, Ouma was grateful to her. Not that he would ever admit that to the girl.  

She finally broke her tight hold on the small boy and turned her attention to the other two. She had never met them before, but she allowed them to come because they were Ouma's friends. The girl seemed to instantly click with the polite robot, but was a lot less keen on the foul-mouthed inventor. 

As the conversation in the doorway progressed, Ouma spotted the unmistakable green hue of his best friend's hair from around the corner. Excitement ran through the small boy's body as he whisked himself away from the conversation without a farewell and whipped excitedly around the corner. He spotted his best friend standing with his back to the small boy, a solo cup in one hand and a gold pirate sword in the other. He wore a red pirate captain's coat and brown pirate boots, from what Ouma could see from behind. So he and Kaede were doing a couples costume too? He mentally gagged. 

He snuck up behind the unsuspecting boy and clasped his hands around his waist, pulling him in to a tight squeeze. 

"A~ma~mi~chan!" He sung the boy's name gleefully. 

Amami hopped slightly in shock, before recognizing his friend's voice. Ouma moved slightly to Amami-chan's side to look up at him with a pleasant grin. The tall boy beamed back down at his friend. 

"Kokichi! I was wondering when you were gonna show up." Rantaro placed a hand on top of the small boy's head and ruffled his hair. Kokichi figured they had been the last to arrive with how 'fashionably' late they had been. In reality, they had taken so long because Ouma had challenged Iruma to a series of ridiculously rigged games in competition for the front seat. He could've gone on all night if Kiibo hadn't put a stop to the shenanigans. Kokichi shifted his eyes examine the rest of the room. 

It was an inviting atmosphere, there was music playing at a reasonable volume and clusters of people socializing and drinking. There were several couches arranged in a circular shape around a coffee table where people rested their drinks. Ouma began scanning the room for the familiar figure that had been missing from his room this morning. 

His violet eyes met with the golden ones he had been searching for. The detective had been subtly observing the small boy from his seat between Momota and Harumaki. As their eyes met, Saihara quickly glanced away. If he was trying to pretend he hadn't been staring at Ouma, it wasn't working. Ouma chuckled to himself as he released his hold on Rantaro to face the tall boy. As Ouma caught a glimpse of his friend's face, he realized he was staring in Saihara's direction. Kokichi held a hand up in front of Amami-chan's face and snapped his fingers to bring the boy back to reality. Amami-chan looked taken aback, apologizing as he nervously scratched at the back of his neck. 

Soon the three people Ouma had ditched in the hallway made their way in behind him.

Akamatsu-chan clasped her hands together contentedly, "Everyone's arrived now! Let's all have fun." She shouted to no one in particular. Two girls made their way over to the newest batch of people to socialize. One was a small redhead dressed as a witch, and the other clung closely to the small girl's side dressed as some sort of martial artist. The taller girl began complaining to Kaede about how many 'disgusting males' had been invited, while the lethargic-looking girl at her side rolled her eyes lazily. 

As Ouma grew bored of the conversation, his eyes began to wander to the kitchen that was open to the room they were currently in. He had been caught gawking by Amami-chan, who gently nudged his side. He leaned in slightly to speak lowly to Kokichi, 

"Do you want to drink?" Amami-chan questioned. Ouma felt himself go a little cold at the accusation. Ouma did want to drink; it helped him loosen up and not think so hard about every damn thing.  He knew Amami-chan didn't like it when he drank, but his voice didn't sound disapproving like he thought it would. Ouma kept his face unreadable as he gazed into Amami-chan's eyes. There was a tinge of worry, but the tall boy's expression softened as his best friend examined him. "It's just a question. Be honest." 

Kokichi simply nodded once. If Rantaro got mad, he would just pretend he had been lying. Instead, his best friend bit his lip thoughtfully, looking over his shoulder to the kitchen. As the others chatted away excessively, the two of them slipped away to make their way to the kitchen. 

Ouma had come here with the intention of challenging himself to avoid alcohol tonight, and yet, he was being dragged weakly into the room full of his liquid vice. He should've said no, but he trusted Rantaro. Rantaro would watch over him. So... It's fine, right? 

Just before he disappeared into the kitchen with Rantaro, he glanced over his shoulder at the spot where Saihara-chan had been sitting. Their eyes met once more. This time, Saihara glared back at him with an interrogative look. Just last night, he had promised to Saihara that he wouldn't drink tonight. He wanted to stop. He wanted to turn around and tell Rantaro he changed his mind, but he couldn't. He was too powerless to his desires. 

_Sorry Saihara-chan. I'm a lying piece of shit._

Ouma figured he could prove his innocence to Saihara-chan tonight in a different way. He would have one or two drinks and stop there. Not like he had much of a choice, Amami-chan explained that that was his absolute limit before they had even finished walking all the way into the room. He would 'prove' to Saihara-chan that he could handle his alcohol, even if it wasn't necessarily true. Amami-chan skillfully poured their drinks while deep in thought. He looked over at Ouma before finally opening his mouth. 

"I trust you, Ouma-kun." The tall boy sincerely confessed before handing a drink to Ouma. Guilt ravaged his mind as he thought about the party with Saihara-chan. He smiled pleasantly at Amami-chan as he professed honestly, 

"You shouldn't." 

The tall boy must have thought he was joking, as he chuffed playfully at the small boy.

Amami-chan and Ouma made their way back out to the living room with drinks in hand. It had been forever since the two of them had gone to a party together, much less drank together. They used to have some fun times before Ouma started getting out of control. That's probably why Amami-chan looked so pleased as he clinked their drinks together before downing his. He crunched the plastic cup in his hand and laughed energetically. Ouma might've done the same if he hadn't seen Saihara-chan out of the corner of his eye. 

Instead, he timidly sipped at the cup in his hands. Amami-chan paid no mind to his behavior as Iruma-san approached the two. 

"There you ass-wipes are! C'mon we're about to play some games." She pouted as she gestured to the circle of couches in the middle of the room. Kaede, the magician, the man-hater, a girl dressed as a maid, a tall burly man with wild hair, and Kiibo all sat on the couches fumbling around with board games. Ouma briefly wondered why Saihara-chan wasn't playing. He glanced over at the boy. He was still sitting off in the corner with his two friends. Ouma resentfully grimaced at the sight. Were those two just going to seclude and monopolize his time this whole party? They were getting in Ouma's way, and he didn't appreciate it. 

Amami-chan patted Ouma's back playfully as he made his way into the circle, and Ouma followed close behind. He plopped down next to Amami-chan on the cushion-laden seat and took another sip of his drink. Kaede started by introducing everyone who was new to the group. Ouma learned the names of the strangers at the table were Himiko Yumeno, Tenko Chabashira, Kirumi Tojo, and Gonta Gokuhara. 

Kaede sure was popular to have so many friends. 

The group started off with a simple board game. Ouma would normally be bored with this sort of thing, but the liquor and the colorful personalities kept him engaged. Halfway through the game, Rantaro left the room and returned with more drinks. He quietly reminded Kokichi that this would be his last one. He whined a bit but agreed, knowing it was for the best. Deep down, he was grateful to Rantaro.

The game continued until the end, in which Kokichi lost by a thin margin to Chabashira-san. 

"Hmph. Just goes to show you how inferior men truly are to women!" The dark-haired girl made a distasteful face at the runner up, and Kokichi had to be held down into place by Rantaro as he laughed breathlessly with the others. He hated losing, and he wasn't about to let this girl rub it in his face.

"Whatever, to be honest, I wasn't even trying." Kokichi shrugged nonchalantly. "Next game, I'm gonna put in some actual effort and stomp your ass into the ground." He smirked maliciously at his newfound rival. 

Turns out, the next game they had lined up was Never Have I Ever. Kokichi cursed his lousy luck; there wasn't much he  _hadn't_ done in his short life. His desire to win burned fiercely all the same, so he decided to cheat. He had to be careful, since the boy sitting next to him knew so much about him and might call him out on some of his lies. The small boy downed the rest of his final drink and furrowed his brows in concentration as the game began. 

 As the group laughed and played, Kokichi noticed how late it was getting. Time had flown by, but they had already been playing games for several hours. Some of the other guests had already returned to their rooms or made their way out with some quick goodbyes. All except the three keeping to themselves in the corner. Ouma wanted to scream at them. Why were they being so reserved? Ouma wouldn't normally care, but they had Saihara-chan with them. 

As it became apparent to Ouma that he wouldn't be able to win a game like this against someone as pure as Gokuhara, he stopped lying and was quickly dropped from the game. Amami-chan, who was still in the game, looked at him quizzically as the small boy arose from his seat. He felt a little tipsy as he climbed out of the barricade of couches, he was a lightweight after all. Amami-chan watched him from over his shoulder, still trying to participate in the game but more concerned about his friend's actions.  

The liquid courage in his veins made sauntering over to the trio easier than it would've been completely sober. Honestly, Momota and Harukawa scared the shit out of him. Momota looked like the kind of guy who would've bullied him in high school and Harukawa had already physically assaulted him once before. But they had something he wanted; Saihara-chan. 

Kokichi did his best to appear confident as he stood in front of the three with his hands on his hips, feeling his cape swaying off his back. He pointed directly at Saihara-chan. The three gave him bizarre looks as he spoke, 

"So, are you losers just gonna sit here all night? Or did you actually come here to have fun?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Harukawa swiftly stood to put a wall between Kokichi and the detective. She looked down at him with an icy glare, as if threatening him with her eyes. Ouma realized he might've made a mistake provoking them with Harukawa around.

As soon as she had begun to step towards the small boy with that burning hatred in her eyes, two things seemed to happen in slow motion. 

First, Saihara-chan and Momota-kun stood in alarm at Harukawa's actions. 

Second, Ouma felt a hand grasp his arm and yank him back. 

Being suddenly wrenched back caused Kokichi to flinch, thinking maybe Harukawa had gotten a hold of him. No immediate pain followed, however, so Ouma tentatively opened his eyes. He saw Amami-chan's back directly in front of him. He stood protectively between the two, looking directly down at Harukawa. 

"Don't" Rantaro began shakily, " _t_ _ouch him."_ Blood red eyes stared unflinchingly into intense green. 

Momota-kun grabbed onto Harukawa's arms and gently pulled her away from the confrontation. 

"Harumaki! What are you thinking?" Momota chided the girl as sweat rolled down his temple. Saihara stood staring in shock at the situation, and Kaede made her way over to the scene in an attempt to pacify everyone. 

Harukara's eyes flicked around to examine everyone who was beginning to crowd around. 

"Let's go. I told you this was a bad idea." She spat coldly and started making her way towards the door. Momota followed after the girl in a panic. Saihara looked at the three who still remained. 

"Kaede, I'm so sorry." The detective began, "There's no excuse for her actions sometimes, but I swear she's a good person deep down..." He bowed apologetically to the girl. She waved him off. 

"No, no, I believe it. Plus, I don't think you should be apologizing to me..." Kaede nervously faltered as she nodded towards Ouma. The small had been peeking out at the scene from behind Amami's protective barrier, and was suddenly pierced by Saihara's bright eyes. They were wide and full of uneasiness. 

"S-sorry, Ouma-kun..." Saihara looked at the floor and delivered his second apology. Ouma saw Rantaro gritting his teeth. The small boy wasn't sure how to react, so he just defaulted to his joking nature. 

"That's okay, my beloved Saihara-chan! I was hoping those two would leave soon anyways." Ouma maneuvered around Amami-chan body to grasp the downtrodden detective's hands. "You don't need them anyways, Saihara-chan." Ouma whispered so that only they could hear. Saihara looked up at him with a slightly offended expression. "Come play with me instead, okay?" Ouma's lip curled up mischievously. He didn't give the detective time to react, simply spinning back around with a flourish and heading back to the game. The others eyed him curiously or asked questions, but Ouma just shrugged them off indifferently. 

After the three talked for a while, they returned to the group with Saihara close behind. 

"Okay everyone, sorry about that! This is Shuichi Saihara, he's a great detective! He'll be joining us for the rest of the night." Kaede cheerfully introduced Saihara to the group and they all welcomed him happily. Well, except Chabashira. 

Ouma knew he could count on Akamatsu to convince Saihara to play with them. He hummed joyfully as Saihara took a seat on the couch straight across from the small boy. He gave the detective a victorious wink, and Saihara sighed in defeat. 

 

-

 

The night continued with Saihara-chan added to the mix. They were now the only ones left awake in the house. Some of the people in the group had grown tipsier than others, specifically Chabashira and Akamatsu. Ouma's buzz, on the other hand, had started to fade. He started to overheat after a while, being in such close proximity to so many other people, and ended up removing his hat and cape. Eventually, they were ready to move on to the last game Akamatsu-chan had prepared for the night. 

"Okay! Now It's time for-Drumroll puh-lease!" Kaede shouted in an intoxicated haze. Chabashira jumped at the opportunity and began giggling as she tapped a beat on Akamatsu-chan's thighs. The two both laughed hysterically and Kaede wordlessly passed the game across the table to Rantaro. The tall boy chuckled and picked the game as the two girls continued to snicker helplessly, as if they couldn't stop. 

"Hmm... Truth or Dare!" Rantaro announced. 

"Oh fuck yes! Finally, this party is about to heat up, baby!" Miu shouted as she grabbed Kiibo in a headlock-like hug, practically suffocating the boy in her bust. It seemed she had too much to drink, too. 

Ouma snorted at the foolishness. However, he was quite interested in the game choice. Ouma had tried and failed all night to win a game, but now he figured he might have a chance. Ouma was bold enough to do or say anything to be crowned the winner. He noticed Saihara nervously readjust himself at the announcement. He smirked mischievously at the boy. 

Rantaro pulled the game out of its box, assembling everything as the others continued to banter spiritedly. "Hmm... Okay, so..." Rantaro began, catching everyone's attention with his serious tone. "Here's how the game seems to work; We go clockwise and spin this little wheel..." Amami flicked the arrow on the center of the table to demonstrate. "Whoever the arrow lands on is your target. You ask them, 'truth or dare?' Then you pull from the truth card pile or dare card pile based off their answer. You read them the card, and if they can't follow through, they get eliminated." Amami beamed as he put the instructions back in the box. "We start with the shortest person."

Everyone immediately turned towards Ouma. He sputtered in offense. 

"Hey! Don't gawk at me, you cretins! I'm pretty sure Yumeno-chan over there is shorter than me underneath that hat." Ouma deflected the gazes to the short redhead, who sighed nervously. 

"I'm only so short because I wanted my MP to be more concentrated in my body, okay...?" Yumeno drowsily explained, earning a squeal from Chabashira, who wrapped her arms around the small girl and nuzzled her head. The dark-haired girl shouted indistinctly about how cute Yumeno was. Yumeno simply reached towards the wheel with Chabashira clinging to her and flicked the arrow with an enunciated 'Nyeh!' 

The arrow landed on Iruma-san, who danced happily at being on the chopping block first. "Dare! Don't even ask, I choose dare all the way, bitches!" 

Yumeno shrugged Chabashira off as she reached for a Dare card. 

"Don’t talk to anyone for 30 minutes." Yumeno read the card out with a blank expression. Miu looked horrified, and the entire group burst out into laughter. Tears began forming in Miu's eyes as she struggled to keep her big mouth shut, and Ouma loved every second of her pain. There was a beautiful irony in the fact that her own enthusiasm had landed her in such an uncomfortable situation.

Yumeno passed the wheel to Gokuhara, who spun the wheel with curiosity. The wheel landed on Kirumi, who put her hand on her chin. 

"I suppose I'll start off tame and pick truth." She decided. 

"Wow! So honest, Miss Tojo! Gonta will do his best to pick a good card now." Gonta picked up a card and prepared to read it aloud, but stopped abruptly after glancing at the contents. "What!? Gonta cannot possibly ask something like this to a lady! Please, let Gonta draw a new card?" 

"No you dumbass! That's not how the game works!" Ouma shouted indignantly. Gonta stuttered in response, looking like he was emotionally torn. Ouma sighed and reached his lithe body across the table. "Gimme that!" He snatched the card from the boy and read it aloud with no hesitation, "Who is the sexiest person in the room?" Gonta cried out as he covered his ears in shame. Chabashira rolled her eyes and Yumeno gently patted Gokuhara's large arms to comfort him. 

"Don't fret, Gokuhara-kun, it's not your fault you drew that card." Kirumi's calm words seemed to diminish the flustered boy's worries. She recollected her thoughts and continued, "Well then, in terms of raw physical attributes, I would probably have to go with Iruma-san." 

Iruma flushed red and let out a surprised squeak, opening her mouth to respond before Kiibo hurriedly covered her mouth. 

Ouma's eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. "Oh? Correct me if I'm wrong, but did you just try to use your question to make Iruma lose the game, Tojo-san?" Ouma eyed the girl at his side suspiciously. She simply smiled politely in response. 

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Ouma-kun." She was lying. Ouma wondered if his mental match had taken notice too. He glanced at Saihara to see him staring at the two knowingly. Ouma smirked happily. 

Then the wheel was passed to Saihara. He spun the dial, and it landed decisively on Ouma-kun himself. Ouma couldn't believe his luck, biting his lip at Saihara-chan in excitement. The boy blushed noticeably at being paired with Ouma. "Truth or Dare, Ouma-kun?" He asked nervously. 

Ouma thought hard about the possibilities. He was still trying to get on Saihara-chan's good side, so he decided to play it safe. "Truth." 

"What is your least favorite thing about your best friend?" Saihara read the card cautiously, looking up to eye the two boys who sat right next to each other. Ouma felt Amami-chan stiffen next to him. 

_Okay I changed my mind, my luck sucks._

Truthfully, he loved almost everything about Amami-chan. The only thing he could think to say was 'his girlfriend.' He decided he didn't want to make things even more awkward and chose to lie instead. He felt rushed with all eyes on him and spat out, "His piercings are stupid." 

Amami-chan looked at him with betrayal in his eyes as several others tried to stifle their laughter, including Akamatsu-chan. The tall boy beside him began fidgeting with the metal in his ears with a pout. 

Miu was up next, she spun the wheel and it landed on Chabashira-san, who chose truth. Miu showed the card to Kiibo, who read it aloud, "What kind of person would you want to marry one day?" 

The girl started burning crimson as she glanced at the small girl at her side. "I-I don't know! What kind of weird question is that!?" She began panting as she squirmed restlessly. "P-probably a cute girl who...is maybe a little bit shorter than me. A-and likes to sleep a lot! A-and maybe has short hair and-" 

"Wow, Chabashira-san! Gonta has an idea! If that's the sort of person you want to marry, why not marry Yumeno-san?" Chabashira fussed at Gonta's innocent suggestion and he began apologizing profusely. Miu just rolled her eyes and passed the baton to Kiibo. 

Kiibo landed on Gonta, who contemplated his choice. Ouma was growing bored of everyone picking truth. 

"Hey Gonta, you should totally pick dare! If you do, something great will happen!" Ouma persuaded the gullible boy, who agreed to choose dare. 

Kiibo cleared his throat, "Slap the person on the left." Ouma giggled, this was exactly what he wanted. 

Gonta looked appalled at the suggestion and looked at Saihara-chan, who was the person on his left.

"No! Gonta could never hit someone! That is something a gentleman would never do!" Gonta refused, and was dropped from the game. 

 _One down._ Ouma thought mischievously. 

The wheel was passed to Amami, who rolled Kirumi. She once again picked truth. 

"If you and one person in this room could be the last people on Earth left alive, who would that person be?" Amami-chan asked. 

Kirumi looked like she was contemplating before opening her mouth to speak, "Honestly, I would be fine with anyone in this room. Except, perhaps, for Iruma-san." 

This time, Kiibo couldn't stop Iruma's impulsive outburst in time. "What did you just say, you stuck up bitch!?" Kiibo face-palmed. 

Kaede giggled playfully, "Iruma-san, you just failed your dare. You're out." Iruma realized her mistake and sunk into her seat in disappointment. Ouma found it hilarious, but he made a mental note that Kirumi would probably be the one to beat in this game. 

Finally, the wheel ended up in Ouma's hands. He ended up with Yumeno-chan, who responded "Dare sounds like it requires effort, so I pick truth." 

Ouma grimaced at having to pick up a probably-boring truth card, but read it aloud obediently. "What is the longest amount of time that you have ever been awake?" 

Yumeno perked up at the question, "Oh, that's easy! With my magic, I don't need to sleep at all. In fact, I've been awake for weeks as we speak." The small girl proudly chirped. 

Kirumi spoke up, "Excuse me, Akamatsu-san, but I do believe that was a lie. Does that still count?" 

Akamatsu thought to herself for a moment and decidedly answered, "Nope! If it's a truth card, you gotta tell the truth! You're out too, Yumeno-chan." 

Yumeno whined as Ouma passed the wheel to the devious Kirumi, who looked wholly satisfied with herself. The arrow pointed towards Amami, who decided to shake things up by picking Dare. 

"Lick the side of someone’s face." As soon as the words left Kirumi's mouth, Ouma knew he was doomed. Adrenaline kicked in as he tried to escape from his seat, but Amami-chan's arms locked him in place. 

Amami chuckled, "Where do you think you're going, Kokichi?" Ouma wrenched his eyes shut as he braced for impact. He felt Amami-chan's warm tongue travel from his jawbone up his red-hot cheeks, finally stopping at his temple. Everyone in the room was giggling maniacally, but Ouma was busy trying to control the blush that threatened to show itself. He hadn't needed the reminder than Amami-chan's tongue piercing existed, either. 

As Kokichi struggled to get a hold of himself, the game continued for a while. Chabashira was out next because she couldn't bring herself to answer the question, "What is your favorite thing about the opposite gender?" She was followed closely by Kiibo, who refused to take a shower with all his clothes on, as it would ruin his costume. Kaede was the next out because she was too embarrassed to answer the question, "Have you ever taken nude photos or videos of yourself?" Which, by the way, just made the answer obvious. 

Finally, only Saihara, Tojo, Ouma, and Amami remained. The four of them spread themselves out so that each of them sat on a separate couch now. The wheel was passed to Kirumi, who landed on Ouma. Ouma picked Dare. 

Before reading the card aloud, Tojo eyed the three remaining boys cautiously. She seemed unsure of herself for a moment. She steeled her resolve and read the card. 

"Kiss the person in the room who is the same gender. Do it passionately." 

Ouma felt his heart stop. He didn't look away from Kirumi. He only had two options, he already knew what they were. Everyone who had been watching along from outside the game went mute. Ouma's eyes flicked up to meet with Akamatsu-chan's, she shot him a worried look. 

Ouma couldn't tell if she was more worried about him kissing Amami-chan or Saihara-chan. She probably couldn't tell either. 

Ouma could've said no. He could've dropped out then and there. But he wasn't going to do that, because he wanted to win after all. 

_Yeah, that's the only reason._

Ouma turned to look at the two boys. Amami-chan had a distressed look on his face, while Saihara-chan studied the situation careful. Ouma wished he knew what they were thinking in that moment. Ouma looked one last time at the anxious Amami-chan before sitting up from his seat and crawling across the table to lean in to his target. 

The boy he approached had his eyes tightly closed as soon as he saw Ouma coming towards him. The boy was biting his own lip as he blushed furiously. Ouma couldn't help but be enthralled by the boy's reaction. Ouma shifted closer until he was all the way on the couch, sitting in the boy's lap.  

_Oh my god, I'm really gonna do this._

Well, if he was going to do this, he might as well do it right. 

"Look at me, Saihara-chan." Ouma whispered as he leaned to bring their lips closer together. Saihara's dazzling golden eyes opened at Ouma's command. The detective kept his hands glued to his sides nervously and licked his lips. Ouma stared down into his uneasy eyes as he closed the small gap between their lips. He felt Saihara shake under him at the contact, squirming slightly as his eyes fluttered closed. Ouma led the kiss as well as he could, taking Saihara's wet lips between his gently. It felt cold and warm at the same time, and Ouma couldn't help but want more. Ouma turned his head to the side and licked at Saihara's lips, asking permission to go deeper. Saihara gasped quietly, but parted his lips ever-so-slightly. Ouma slid their mouths together once more before dipping his tongue into the gap Saihara had opened for him. He moaned faintly as he felt his tongue slide past Saihara's. He almost forget they were being watched, that this was just for a game. Ouma opened his eyes to try to ground himself in reality before the heat building in his groin became too much. 

He laced his fingers through Saihara's hair and tugged slightly, watching the boy's eyebrows raise in surprise. Ouma swirled his tongue skillfully around Saihara's, eliciting a soft groan from the detective, who moved his hand to rest on Kokichi's waist. It was starting to feel like Saihara was into it, and in that moment he had no doubt his theory was correct; Saihara liked men. Ouma smirked into their kiss at the realization, pulling his tongue back to bite on Saihara's lower lip. Saihara's eyes shot open to meet with Ouma's at the rough act, and the two passionately pressed their lips together one more time. Ouma pulled away from the feverish boy he sat on top of, trying to control his own body heat. 

Saihara looked at him with dazed eyes, before blinking himself back to reality. His eyes widened in alarm as if he just realized what he had done. Ouma stared back at him with an equal amount of astonishment at his actions. Ouma began to unravel himself and crawl off of Saihara's lap, trying his best to seem unaffected by what just happened. Most of the others just stared in a mix of astonishment and horror. 

Ouma took a deep breath and steadied himself, keeping his voice composed as he addressed the shocked crowd. 

"What? It said passionately, didn't it?" Ouma shrugged. Everyone seemed to convince themselves that it had all been part of the game, going back to their lighthearted chatter. Well, almost everyone. Kaede, Kiibo, and Miu looked at Ouma as if he had just kicked a baby. 

Kirumi cleared her throat as she politely passed the wheel to Saihara-chan. The detective almost seemed afraid of it as he took in his hands, until he laid eyes on something that seemed to frighten him even more. Ouma followed Saihara's nervous gaze, which landed on... Amami-chan. 

In the heat of the moment, Ouma realized he had completely forgotten that Amami-chan was there. 

But something seemed... wrong. 

Amami-chan didn't return to his contented expression like the others had by now. He was just staring. Staring at Saihara-chan.

Amami noticed Ouma studying him, and his expression suddenly changed. He smiled warmly at Kokichi, 

"Ah, I'm not feeling too well suddenly. Sorry guys, I might've had too much to drink." Rantaro suddenly excused himself from the group and headed outside without another word. 

"Rantaro!" Kaede shouted after the tall boy, but he didn't respond. They heard the front door slam closed second later. 

Yeah, something was definitely wrong here. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ive been so excited for this chapter because of the truth or dare scene. Funny story; I actually just picked all my favorite characters who would make sense being at Kaede's party and used a random truth or dare question generator paired with a random number generator for each student and let the madness ensue. (Well, except for, y'know... THAT one question...) It was really fun to write since 90% of it was improv., I was surprised how well it worked out!
> 
> also this chapter was supposed to be longer but if i keep going i wont be able to get any sleep tonight ;-; so sorry for the cliffhanger-ish ending
> 
> Anyways,  
> Id like to believe ive been writing a bit of a slow burn up until this point, just kinda teasing the good stuff :3c  
> Yeah, that's about to change soon, not immediately, but sooooooonnnnn. Stay tuned, nishishi~


	12. Defense Mechanisms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really can't explain how much your guy's comments and kudos give me life... seriously you're all amazing
> 
> I love you all so much pls let me adopt you ndhwbdwndjwn
> 
> anyways prepare for copious amounts of drama below im sorry

As Rantaro slammed the door shut, several people jumped in their seats. A quiet awkwardness spread across the table, Ouma shifted his eyes to meet with Kaede's. They seemed to have the same idea as they both arose from their seats. She ran hastily out of the room in a rush, and Ouma moved to follow her. 

As Ouma maneuvered around the couches that suddenly felt like cages, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist. 

"Ouma-kun! Where are you going?" Saihara stood as he questioned the boy in his grasp. Ouma felt a boiling frustration at the hindrance; Ouma grit his teeth. 

"LET ME GO!" He barked at the detective, whose face recoiled in dejection at the outburst. Ouma felt the familiar sting of regret as the kiss they had shared moments ago was brought to mind. Ouma bit down harshly on the inside of his cheek as he snatched his wrist away from the boy's grasp.

"You are quitting the game as well, I assume?" Tojo inquired. Ouma snorted sarcastically and shot the maid a dirty look. 

"Sure, whatever, you win. I don't give a shit." As Ouma pivoted to make his exit, Saihara stood from his place to further impede the small boy's movement. 

"Ouma, wait. What happened?" The detective's honest eyes trembled with worry. Ouma felt glued in place. He was wasting too much time in this stupid room, but he didn't want the detective to look at him like  _that._ Annoyance bubbled in his mind until it exploded. 

"What fucking difference does it make to you? You suddenly give a shit about me just because I gave you a little kiss?" Ouma wished he had just bitten his tongue as the words escaped his lips. Saihara's jaw slacked from the harsh words. Ouma knew better. He knew Saihara's true intentions hadn't been bad, but he couldn't help but lash out. He needed Saihara to move, _now._  

"Ouma-kun, that's not-" Ouma cut the boy off as he swerved around the slender body in his way.  

He hastily continued out of the room. 

He rounded the corner, abandoning the game he had tried so hard to win and the boy he so desperately desired. None of that seemed to matter anymore, Ouma knew something was wrong with his best friend. He fumbled with the screen door and nearly tripped over his own feet as he arrived at the porch. He blinked, assessing the sight in front of him. 

Rantaro stood with his hands in his pockets, glowering down at the crying girl at his front with unsympathetic eyes. Kaede rubbed circles around her eyes as she choked on her sobs. What the hell was going on?

Rantaro's uncaring gaze wandered towards Kokichi. The tall boy's lips curved into an almost sadistic smile as their eyes met. 

"Oh, hi Kokichi. What's up?" Kokichi couldn't help but furrow his brows at the strange sight. The small boy bounced down the stairs, approaching the crying girl. 

"What happened to her?" Kokichi asked shallowly, masking his concern. Rantaro gave a sharp shrug. 

"Beats me. She's just drunk." The cold breath spilled visibly from his mouth, weakly masking a smirk. The tall boy's frigid glare sliced towards the porch once more as they heard the creaking of the screen door opening. Saihara stood apprehensively, studying the three of them. The sobbing girl had quieted to a soft whimpering as she raised her glassy gaze to the detective. 

"Saihara- Don't." She stuttered in a panic.  

"Oh, hey. Perfect timing, we were just talking about you." Rantaro mocked toward the confused detective. "Right, Kaede?" He gestured towards the sniveling girl. 

"Okay, what the fuck is going on here?" Ouma rested a hand on his hip as he demanded an explaination. Rantaro throatily chuckled and stepped closer to Kokichi, staring down at the unflinching boy. 

"I already told you, Kokichi. She's drunk." Rantaro lowly growled down at the boy, causing the other two spectators to crowd around in a rush. Kaede grabbed Rantaro by the sleeves and attempted to pull him out of Ouma's face, while Saihara hovered nearby Ouma with concern. "After all,  _some_ of us here can't handle our alcohol very well." The tall boy didn't even blink as he shook his girlfriend off of his arm. Ouma felt Amami's eyes piercing his, his tone was accusatory. Keeping up his mask was hard when his own best friend stared down at him like that. He wanted to break down and crumble under the ferocity, but he grit his teeth as he forced a smile.  

Amami's eyes flickered to the boy behind Ouma, "But you already knew that, right Saihara?" Ouma heard a slight gasp from behind. "I'm sure this isn't the only time you've taken advantage Kokichi like that. From what Kaede told me, it sounds like you had plenty of opportunities at Iruma's party." 

Ouma wanted to scream. His fake smile faded into pressed lips, doing his best to remain unreadable as panic blared in his mind. He didn't dare break his stare fixated on the tall boy's face. He knew Kaede knowing his secret was dangerous, but he hadn't expected the truth to come out in such a tense situation like this. 

"W-what!? No, that's-" Saihara began, interrupted by Kaede choking down another sob. 

"I'm so sorry, Saihara. I didn't mean... It-It just slipped out!" She hid her face as she broke down. Rantaro blinked back to Kokichi, confronting his unblinking glare. 

"Were you just never going to tell me, Kokichi...?" The tall boy's tone shifted from heated to chillingly cold. Ouma involuntarily shivered. There was no way to lie his way out of this one; he was completely backed into a corner. "No snarky response? All out of lies?" Amami prodded. 

Ouma hated being rushed like this. He could never think of the right things to say when his mind was thrown into disarray without being allowed time to formulate an escape. Amami-chan's eyes threatened to tear Ouma from the seams with their revulsion. He couldn't possibly bear to see Amami-chan looking at him like that. Amami-chan couldn't hate him. Amami-chan was all he had. 

The lie spilled from his toxic lips impulsively. "It was Saihara-chan's idea. Sorry, Amami-chan." 

Ouma felt like he had been a passenger in his own body as he spoke the words. Kaede looked up sharply with confusion, tears still streaming down her face. Kokichi knew he was only digging his grave deeper, but he couldn't stop himself. Kokichi's head was a frenzy of dread as he awaited the backlash, but his face showed no signs of his inner turmoil. 

"...It's true." Saihara's levelheaded voice echoed behind him. He thought he must have misheard him; it sounded like the detective was playing along with his lie. Ouma cautiously turned his head to observe the boy behind him. 

Saihara stood confidently, but his shaky breath and rigid stance gave him away to an expert lie detector like Ouma. However, he might be able to convince Amami-chan...

_But why...? Why is he lying for me?_

 

"It was my idea," Saihara reinforced. "I understand why you're so upset, I didn't watch over him closely enough." Ouma detected a tinge of genuine sadness in the boy's voice. He desperately wanted to put a stop to this, to just admit the truth. 

But Ouma was broken. His mind frayed his own heart as he reached out and selfishly claimed the escape offered to him; even if it meant throwing his beloved Saihara-chan under the bus.

"That's right, Saihara-chan. You should be ashamed of yourself." Ouma wickedly smiled as he suffocated the part of himself that felt any shred of remorse for his actions. He knew he would end up hating himself for this later, but right now he was already in too deep. "I'm glad you finally see your place!" He smiled wickedly.

Amami-chan sucked in a deep breath beside him, glaring at Saihara with disgust. 

Saihara nodded to himself with a sullen expression. "Yeah. From now on, I'll leave him to you, Amami-kun. Sorry for being a bother." Saihara turned and began walking back towards the the main campus without waiting for a response. 

Amami-chan seemed to believe them, so Ouma should be free of guilt now. And yet, he wasn't. The disgusting affliction still stuck to his skin like a sickness as he watched the boy who had helped him walked away dejectedly. 

Kaede backed away from the two boys, shaking her head in disbelief. She looked at Ouma in disapproval. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She muttered in an exhausted voice. It was a question the small boy had been asked many times in the past, but could never produce an answer for. Ouma thought earnestly for a moment before answering the girl. After tonight, he finally arrived at the conclusion he had been searching for.

"Everything." 

She simply shook her head in disapproval as she turned to chase after the boy in the distance. 

 

-

 

 

Needless to say, the party had kind of fallen apart after the tense outbursts. Ouma stayed outside with Rantaro for a while, trying to reassure him of his lies. The remaining people had come filing outside a few at a time to assess the damage. Apparently, the majority of them had watched most of the scene unfold from the windows. Ouma felt annoyed at the invasion of privacy, but tried to keep his mouth shut. He realized he had done enough damage for the night. 

After the stress of the situation died down and only Amami-chan and him were left, he continued to look the boy he loved in the eye and lie to him. He continued to drown out the voices urging him to find and apologize to Saihara. He only smiled and happily skipped along the dark path back to campus with Amami by his side. The tall boy seemed to have calmed down now, but wasn't quite back to his usual self. He was spaced out, only half-listening to Kokichi's ramblings. Eventually, Kokichi stopped talking, to which Amami-chan took no notice. They just walked in silence for a while, but it wasn't really awkward. 

However, Kokichi could no longer drown out the voices screaming at him in his head. It was all he could hear now. 

_Saihara-chan is really never going to forgive someone as shitty as you, now. Way to go._

_I can't believe you actually pulled that one off, I'd almost be impressed if I wasn't so disgusted._

_Great job asshole, you even caused your best friends to have a fight. It's your fault Kaede was crying._

_It's all  your fault._

 

Kokichi sometimes wished that he didn't lie so much, but it was a part of who he was. Without his lies, he would be empty. He lied when he felt scared. He lied to himself. He lied to the people he loved the most. He lied to mask his emotions. He lied as a defense mechanism. 

Besides, everyone else in the world lied too. If someone claims they only tell the truth, that itself is a lie. Kokichi liked to believe he was an honest liar. Everyone else in the world shuns and criticizes liars, even though we all do it. Kokichi, on the other hand, doesn't shy away from the lies. He embraces them, sometimes admits to them, and hates them all the same.

His mother lied when she said she loved him. The hospital lied to him when they told him he was going to get better. The world lied to him when they said being gay was fine.  

But all the lies had something in common; they were meant to make you feel better. They were meant to prevent kids like him from trying to kill themselves. When it comes down to it, that's why humans lie.

Lies were meant to protect us, even when they were used with bad intentions. 

Kokichi was one of the few people in the world who didn't have a problem with that. He just wished more people understood his perspective. 

Before the small boy even realized it, they were arriving back at the dorms. As they walked inside, Amami-chan suddenly came to a stop. 

"Why don't you sleep in my room tonight?" Amami muttered without facing his friend. 

_Ah. Probably should've seen that coming._

Truthfully, he was itching to see Saihara again. He really needed to talk to the boy and parse his feelings about what had happened tonight. However, turning Amami-chan down now would be suspicious. Besides, there were some things he needed to talk about with Rantaro, too. Kokichi happily agreed and the two resumed their silent walk towards Amami-chan's room. 

Rantaro had been acting strange lately, he had noticed for a while. He figured tonight would be as good a time as ever to try to get to the bottom of the mysterious boy's thoughts. Ever since the day Rantaro found him lying on the bathroom floor back in high school, he had grown quite clingy. He was overbearingly protective of the boy, and always tried to ensure his happiness. Kokichi liked it, though. 

However, lately he was becoming more intensely possessive. His thoughts were becoming harder to read and he was more on edge, as opposed to his usual happy-go-lucky self. Not to mention his increased affection and strangely passionate moments they had shared. It somehow felt different now. When Kokichi traced it back in his mind, it had all seemed to start the night he had ended up hurting himself when he was alone in the park at night. But what was significant about that night? It wouldn't be the first time since Kokichi was released from the hospital that he ended up hurting himself. Before that, they had just been texting like normal, right? 

 

Amami-chan cracked open the creaky door to his room. All the lights were off, and there were no signs of his roommate. Kokichi was beginning to wonder if he existed, before remembering that it made sense for people to be out of their rooms on Halloween night. 

The two boys quietly set their belongings down by the door, Amami-chan making his way over to the desk to turn on a lamp. It dimly lit the room, and Kokichi finally got a look at Rantaro's face. The tall boy was nervously chewing at his bottom lip, still not making eye contact with Ouma. 

"Want me to sleep on the floor...?" The green eyed-boy uttered the question lowly. 

"Huh? Since when have I ever made you do that?" Ouma asserted back. He had never heard such a ridiculous thing, the two of them had always shared their bed space with each other, so why was he suggesting something like this all of a sudden? Amami-chan offered no answer to his question, only shifting uncomfortably. Ouma grew frustrated. "If you don't want me here, I'll go back to my room." 

"No! That's not it! Sorry..." Amami seemed to panic at the notion, finally meeting Kokichi's eyes and letting out a heavy sigh. "Sorry, I was just...Thinking." He finished his thought. Ouma was growing tired of trying to read the boy's mind and decided now was the time to get to the truth. 

"Thinking about what, Amami-chan?" Ouma inquired as he approached the tall boy, taking one of his hands. Amami-chan hesitated for a moment before continuing. 

"Do you...think what we do is  _normal_?" Ouma blinked a few times at the tall boy's unexpected question. 

"Be more specific." Ouma demanded. The tall boy sighed while desperately collecting his thoughts. 

"Like, holding hands... and cuddling and stuff." Amami returned to chewing on his lip. "I mean... it's not that I don't like it, it's just..." The boy fidgeted nervously with Kokichi's hand, unsure of himself. 

Why was Rantaro thinking about something like this all of a sudden? Sure, what they did together might be viewed as strange to most people, but it had been this way for years. They had what Ouma liked to think of as an 'intimate friendship.' Or maybe that was just what Ouma told himself to believe that he wasn't taking advantage of Rantaro's pure heart. Many people had tried to convince Rantaro that their closeness was unusual for two boys, and for a while, it had worked. This was the first time in a long time that Kokichi heard Rantaro expressing doubts about their attachment to each other. 

Studying the tall boy's face, he could tell he was hurting. His eyebrows were tightly knit in frustration, his lips almost swollen from being chewed at.

"Who cares if it's normal?" The statement caught Rantaro off guard as Kokichi continued, "You're my best friend, and I can express my love however I please, society be damned!" Ouma went to flourish his cape dramatically before realizing he had made the mistake of leaving it back at Kaede's. Whoops. 

Rantaro's mouth hung agape at the bold declaration, before closing into a content smile. "Seeing you wearing that outfit tonight made me feel really nostalgic, y'know." Rantaro chuckled lightly as he fiddled with the belts hanging from the small boy's sleeves. "Feels like the two of us should be running around causing trouble with everyone on a night like this, doesn't it?" Ouma's heart sank at the fond memories. 

"Boo, don't get all sentimental." Ouma stood on the tips of his toes to press a finger to Rantaro's forehead playfully. The tall boy's laugh was carefree; Ouma's words must have cleared up the doubts in his mind. Ouma couldn't help but wonder what had brought on the strange behavior in the first place.

"Hey, Kokichi? I'm sorry about the way I acted tonight. There's been... a lot on my mind lately." Rantaro's tone returned to a more serious note. "But listen, I don't think you should've did what you did tonight..."  

_Huh? What I did tonight?_

"You mean... kissing Saihara-chan?" Ouma tilted his head as he questioned Rantaro, who huffed a small breath of disdain. Bingo. 

Something about this whole situation suddenly made everything click in Ouma's mind. It was Saihara-chan. The night Rantaro found him, he had been texting him about Saihara-chan. That was the point when something had started to change between the two of them. That's when Rantaro became more possessive and affectionate than usual. That means...

"Rantaro Amami, are you _jealous_?" Ouma quirked an eyebrow as he sought answers from his friend. 

Embarrassment seemed to flood the boy's face as he turned pink. Ouma couldn't stifle his laughter. He couldn't believe that was what this was all about, but when he thought about it, it all made sense. Ouma had never had a boyfriend in his entire life. Hell, he'd barely even had crushes before. The only person he ever looked at romantically had been Amami. 

Ouma couldn't help the fact that he was exhilarated at the thought of Amami-chan being jealous of someone else receiving his affections. It was kind of adorable. 

At Kokichi's laughter, Rantaro began to protest, "Hey! That's not- Stop laughing! Listen..." Rantaro began to pout as he grabbed Kokichi's wrists in an attempt to stop the boy's hysterical giggling. Kokichi started to feel bad and attempted to hold in his snickering from behind tightly pressed lips. Rantaro sighed and rolled his eyes. "Look, I don't know, I realize it's stupid... but I just have a bad feeling about that guy; especially after tonight."

"Oh, poor, silly Rantaro. Even if he becomes my boyfriend, he won't replace you as my best friend." Rantaro seemed to recoil a bit at the word, 'boyfriend.' 

"But you don't need him, Kokichi." Rantaro caressed the side of the small boy's face lovingly. "You have me." 

Kokichi froze at the selfish words from his friend's mouth as he guided his hand down to grasp Kokichi's chin. 

"If a kiss is what you want, I can give that to you. All you have to do is ask, y'know?" The words were whispered softly as Rantaro stared down at him. Kokichi already knew that Rantaro was willing to kiss him, but why was he bringing this up now? Rantaro's words mixed with how close he was caused Kokichi's brain to short-circuit. His heart pounded and he nearly lost his self control and uttered the command. He collected himself with a deep breath and tried to discipline his greedy thoughts. 

"Is that what you want...?" Ouma questioned. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it out loud to stop himself from making a mistake. 

Rantaro hesitated. 

"I... want you to be happy." Kokichi felt numb at the words. Even thought the sentiment was nice, they weren't the words he had desperately wanted to hear for years now. He cursed himself for even getting his hopes up. He briskly swept the tall boy's hand away from his face and took a step back. Rantaro made an offended noise at the action, but Ouma ignored him as he walked towards the door to pick up his bag. 

"Where are you going...?" Amami inquired with concern. 

"Back to my room, duh." Ouma didn't bother looking back as he twisted the doorknob and began to open the door. He felt the door forcibly closing shut as he watched Amami's arm slam into it from his peripheral vision. Ouma stood still as he felt Rantaro's panting breath near his ear. He was right behind him. 

"No. Stay." Rantaro uttered breathlessly. "You have to stay away from Saihara." 

Ouma swiveled around to face the boy pinning him with scorn in his voice, " _Excuse me?"_

Rantaro's eyes widened in regret as the small boy placed a hand to his chest and forcefully pushed him backwards. 

"Since when do  _you_ give  _me_ orders?"  Ouma glared viciously as the green-haired boy seemed to lose his boldness.The boy opened his mouth to speak, but Kokichi turned to make his exit before hearing him out. 

He was seething. What the hell was Rantaro's problem all of a sudden? He stomped down the hall with his fists curled tightly, digging his nails into his palms. 

Once his head started to clear, he slowed his pace to try calming down. That was when he began to sense somebody's presence behind him. He sighed dramatically, "Rantaro, just fuck off right now, okay? I don't ne-" He spun around to face his friend, but was greeted by the sight of an empty hallway. There was no one around, and yet, he could've sworn there had been someone following him. He felt the familiar sense of dread that had been stalking him lately as he swallowed harshly. 

He decided it would be fine to run back to his room.

 

-

 

His hand hovered nervously around the knob to his room. He was sure Saihara was inside, and everything that had happened earlier was finally catching up with him. The way he blamed Saihara for his mistakes to save his own skin. All he could do was hope Saihara didn't hate his guts now. If he was still mad, maybe he could try playing it off as a joke or something. He turned the knob as his mind swirled with uncertainties. 

He walked in to see Saihara, dressed in his pajamas, sitting on his bed. He was scribbling into the small notebook he kept on him. When he noticed Ouma, he gave him a fleeting glance before returning to his notebook. 

"No hello?" Ouma joked. Saihara didn't break his focus at all as he continued to write. Ouma sighed dejectedly. "C'mon, don't do the silent treatment. That's too cruel, my beloved Saihara-chan." The detective's pen momentarily stopped at the familiar nickname, before resuming shortly after. "Tch, whateves." Ouma slung his belongings onto the floor and made his way over to his dresser. He picked up a shirt and was about to begin undressing before the sound of Saihara's voice stopped him. 

"Wait. Before you go to bed, we need to talk." The detective declared, still not breaking his focus on whatever he was jotting down. 

"Uh, yeah, no shit Sherlock. I just tried that and you ignored me." Ouma asserted sarcastically to the boy, who offered no reaction. 

"I'm busy at the moment. Give me a second." The detective insisted. Ouma raised a brow at the boy.

 _What is he doing, writing a book?_  

Ouma wondered what was so important that he couldn't possibly just wait a couple of minutes to finish. Ouma stared dutifully down at the detective as he waited, trying not to grow impatient. The boy's hurried handwriting began to slow to a stop, and he closed the small book with a decisive crack. 

"Ouma, I think we should request new roommates." Saihara dropped the phrase with such apathy that Ouma didn't even realize the implications at first. It really took a minute to sink in. 

"Are you breaking up with me?" Ouma smirked at the boy, but his face remained detached. 

"I'm being serious, Ouma-kun." Saihara reminded. "Kaito and Maki have been telling me I should do this for a while... but after tonight I'm starting to think they're right." 

Ouma felt paralyzed. The detective stood from his seat on his bed and looked the small boy in the eyes. 

"Why?" Was all Ouma could manage to whisper. He watched the boy's eyes falter, filling with a hint of remorse. 

"You're dangerous... Ouma-kun. I don't understand your intentions, or what you seem to want from me, but clearly you don't care about my well-being." Saihara explained with a stressed expression. Saihara couldn't be more wrong. Ouma did care about him. He cared a lot, apparently, because now tears were welling up in his eyes as he thought of the boy hating him so much he would switch rooms to get away from him. Even so, he couldn't blame him. 

"Is this about the thing with Amami-chan? Saihara, that was just a joke, silly! It was....a joke." Ouma tried to give his usual mischievous grin, but he felt the tears falling down his cheeks as he smiled. 

"That's a lie, Ouma." Saihara looked down at his feet as he spoke, unwilling to look the crying boy in the eyes anymore. 

"O-okay, so maybe it is a lie. But who cares? You went along with it, so you're a liar too!" Ouma began to raise his voice as the tears blurred his vision. They felt hot and unwelcome in his eyes, he desperately tried to blink them away. This wasn't fair. This wasn't how things were supposed to end tonight. 

He didn't want to lose Saihara. They had just gotten to know each other. He still had so much he wanted to learn about the boy, and he thought the detective had felt the same way. Had that all been lies too? What about that day at the amusement park, was that also a lie? What about the way Saihara had gently parted his mouth for Ouma when they had kissed... 

"Was it all a lie?" Ouma spoke aloud without meaning to, earning another concerned look from his roommate. 

"Huh?" Saihara finally looked up at him, quizzically tilting his head at the boy's sudden words. Ouma bit his lip, he might as well push forward. 

"Was your kiss just a lie, then? You don't have any feelings for me at all?" Ouma strengthened his voice as he spoke, searching desperately for the truth in the boy's golden eyes.  Maybe Saihara noticed him searching, because he denied him the excuse to keep looking as his lashes slowly swept his eyes closed. 

"I'm sorry, Ouma-kun. That was a mistake, I shouldn't have done that." The detective's voice broke slightly as he softly spoke those heartbreaking words. Ouma felt his world crash down around him, yet the detective continued to speak, "Just... Trust me. This is best for both of us." 

Ouma couldn't take it any more. He felt so ashamed and vulnerable crying like this in front of the boy he was falling for. The overwhelming urge to defend himself felt like it would swallow him whole, so he gave in. 

"Nishishi~ Just kidding, Saihara." Ouma cleared the tears from his eyes and forced himself to laugh. "I don't care what you do, because you don't matter to me at all." He lied to protect himself. 

He hoped he could convince himself that this lie was true. 

"Oum-" 

"Didn't you hear me, stupid? I said I don't care!" Ouma lashed out at the boy, he couldn't take any more. He turned and ran. He wrenched the door open and began to move as far away from that room as he possibly could. He didn't know where his legs were carrying him, nor did he care. He ran down the stairs and out the front door of the lobby. He wanted to be by himself, somewhere where he could just let it all go and cry for hours. The tears were threatening to come back any second now, so he ran a little faster. 

He couldn't believe that this night really happened. He wished he was just having nightmare instead. He wished he was drunk so he wouldn't have to remember anything when he woke up the next morning. He wished he could drink away all the memories he had made with Saihara that were about to be meaningless. He wished he could fix his broken brain that had landed him in this situation to begin with. That's right; all of this was his own fault. 

Kokichi tripped on a loose piece of concrete and fell crashing to the floor. The sting of the gravel scraping his skin caused him to let out a sharp hiss. He laid there for a moment, sniffling and feeling sorry for himself before he attempted to get back up. 

As he stood, his mind cleared along with his vision. That was when he realized he had made a huge mistake. 

He was alone now. 

He didn't know where he was. 

And it was very, very dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so thirsty for a rantaro POV chapter but its just not the right time yet Q.Q
> 
> oh no another cliffhanger someone pls stop me
> 
> ill proofread this later im just trying to get this chap. out before i gtg to work


	13. Ghosts of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK i really wanted to hold off on Amami's POV but IM TOO WEAK AHHHHH
> 
> **warning: depictions of violence & suicide below***

"Kiss the person in the room who is the same gender. Do it passionately." 

As soon as the girl in the maid costume finished reading her card to Kokichi, Rantaro felt his blood go cold. His eyes immediately flicked towards Kaede, but she was already giving Kokichi a concerned stare. He wondered how she was going to react to this. He wondered briefly if she might break up with him for this. 

But the way she was staring at Kokichi wasn't menacing at all; that's right, they were friends. Kaede would understand that it's just a game, right? He hoped so. 

Kaede would be hard to replace. She was good, kind, and his father loved her. But most of all, she accepted his love for Kokichi.  She didn't judge them or try to separate them. Rantaro liked that most about her. 

Suddenly, Kokichi turned to face him. Rantaro felt a bit nervous, it had been so long since the last time they had kissed; and it had been a lot more private too. Sometimes, he wondered why Kokichi had never asked him for a kiss after that day. He wouldn't mind if he did. After all, they were best friends. As long as it made Kokichi happy, he would do anything. He thought for a while that it was strange for two boys to do some of the things they did, but he had long since gotten over it after he had almost lost him forever. He decided he would no longer let people tell him what he could and could not do with his best friend after that.

Kokichi began to crawl onto the table as he made his way towards... Saihara? 

_Huh?_

Amami felt his head start to ring with confusion. As he watched Kokichi slide into the other boy's lap, he realized what was happening. He felt a sharp sting in his heart when their lips met. Amami didn't understand what Kokichi was thinking, why hadn't he come to him? He felt a sense of betrayal at the action, he grit his teeth harshly to try numbing the pounding pain in his chest. He couldn't look away, even as he caught a glimpse of Kokichi's tongue dipping into the other boy's mouth. The sight make his stomach twist in disgust, and he could barely contain the need to get up and yank the small boy off of the other. 

Amami himself didn't understand why he was having such an adverse reaction to the sight, but he knew that that should've been  _him._ Kokichi finally broke their kiss and began to return to his own seat, but Amami's eyes remained glued on Saihara. 

Why would Kokichi kiss him? He didn't care about Kokichi the way Amami did, there was no way he could. He had only just come into his life; Amami had always been here. They had been through so much together. It was only natural to choose your best friend over a stranger, right? He dug his nails into the cushions from frustration until he thought they might rip.

Amami hadn't realized he had been staring until the detective met his gaze. He looked like a deer in headlights, and Kokichi seemed to take notice. Suddenly, this didn't feel like it was just a game anymore. 

Amami smiled sweetly to try masking his anger, thinking up an excuse. "Ah, I'm not feeling too well suddenly. Sorry guys, I might've had too much to drink." He figured he should remove himself from the situation before he said or did something he would regret. What that something was, he didn't even know himself. 

As he made his way away from the group in a rush, he thought he heard Kaede calling out after him. He continued to round the corner, he _really_ didn't care what she wanted right now. Frustration still boiling underneath his skin, he slammed the door on his way out in an attempt to release it. 

He still felt the flames eating away at his mind, freeing him of all rational thought. He bit down hard on his lip, trying to chase the image of Kokichi kissing Saihara out of his brain. He pulled at his hair and grunted at the sickening thought. 

He heard the door to the house reopen, and frantic footsteps approached him. 

"Rantaro! What the hell was that!? What's your problem?" Kaede lectured him with exasperation in her voice as she approached the tall boy. Rantaro wanted to scream at her to leave him be, but he bit his tongue as he faced her with an irritated grimace. 

"I don't know, Kaede! I'm still trying to figure that out myself." He growled back at the irritating girl. Most of the time, he felt like he cared about Kaede, but sometimes she just got under his skin. He figured that was normal though, since they had been together for more than a year now, his longest lasting relationship. The way she stared back at him with a quizzical look on her scowling face. She sighed loudly, and he could smell the alcohol on her breath. 

"Is this really about the kiss, Rantaro?" She shook her head as she continued, "Don't tell me you wanted Ouma... To kiss _you?"_

Hearing the accusation put into verbal form caused a shiver to run down his spine, her scornful tone adding a punch to the words. He felt a panic raising in his throat as he shouted back to her, 

"No! That's not it! It's just... Why Saihara....?" Rantaro's panic faded back into frustration as he forced himself to change the subject. Whenever Kaede tried to talk to him about his feeling for Kokichi, they just ended up fighting. She would never understand, she would just assume he's gay like everyone else. It was too complicated to explain, only he and Kokichi could ever understand the bond they shared. 

"Saihara...? What did he do?" Kaede questioned. 

"I don't know! Ever since that guy showed up, Kokichi's been... different. He's no good for him." Rantaro was speaking his true feelings. Ever since Kokichi told him he found someone he was interested in, he knew they would be trouble. Kokichi had never gone out of his way to talk about someone he liked to Rantaro before. Rantaro hated it, he knew whoever it was would drive a wedge between him and his best friend.

"Huh? What're you talking about, Saihara is great with Ouma-kun! He even took care of him while he was drunk at Iruma-san's party not too long ago!" Kaede shouted in frustration, grabbing onto Rantaro's shirt. 

The words caused Rantaro's jaw to slack, he stared at the dumbfounded girl with his eyebrows knit tightly together. The information swirled around in his head for a moment before truly sinking in. Kaede gasped when she realized what she had done, and everything suddenly felt numb for Rantaro. 

_He went to the party._

_With Saihara._

_And he lied to my face about it._

"Rantaro, I-" She trembled as she tightened her grip on his clothes, and Rantaro felt his frustration boil over. He cut the girl off by pressing a hand to her chest and pushing her back forcefully. She looked at him with a petrified gaze as tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Rantaro's face melded into one of utter malice as he glowered down at the girl. She seemed to crack under his gaze, burying her face in her hands as she began to break down. 

Rantaro heard the screen door creak open once again, and he turned to see Kokichi standing anxiously in the door frame. His timing was so priceless, Rantaro couldn't help but crack a smile. 

 

-

 

 Rantaro wasn't sure how to feel about the detective's admission that the party had been his own idea. He didn't know the guy well, but it didn't seem like his thing. Deep down, he knew he might be being deceived again, but he decided to accept the risk for now. Their feet scraped against the gravel as they walked, breath coming out in visible puffs. The small boy had been energetic at first, but seemed to die down into a more serious mood. He seemed deep in thought as they walked the distance back to their rooms. Tonight had started out so great, how did it end up like this? Was it really all because of the kiss? 

Rantaro eyed the dark-haired boy at his side as they walked. His wispy hair was blowing slightly in the chilly air, messily framing his delicate face. Rantaro found himself thinking back to how he had felt when he thought Kokichi was going to kiss him. It made him feel like a fool now, but at the time his heart had really been racing. He swallowed hard at the thought. He tried not to think about the fact that he had felt something with Kokichi when they had kissed in the past. He wasn't sure what it was, but it scared him a little. It was something he had never felt before. 

But that was normal, right? I mean, Kokichi is just so  _cute._ He has a body more fragile and delicate than any girl Rantaro had ever met, and his deep purple eyes were intoxicating. Anyone would want to kiss him if given the chance, clearly. 

_Especially Saihara._

Rantaro shook the thought from his head. He shouldn't be thinking about strange things like this anyway. However, as they arrived at the dorms, Rantaro couldn't help but think of Saihara's hold on Kokichi once again. He couldn't let the two of them sleep in the same room after tonight. He felt his insides chill at the thought of what might happen. He stop dead in his tracks as the sickening thoughts caused his stomach to churn. 

"Why don't you sleep in my room tonight?" 

The boy happily agreed and the two of them made their way towards his room. He felt all the tension release at the thought that Kokichi would be under his watch tonight. He couldn't let Kokichi and Saihara get any closer than they already had. Because.... 

Because... Why, exactly? 

Because, he didn't want anyone else to touch Kokichi the way he did. 

Rantaro's heart skipped as the thought entered his mind. 

_No, no, no, no... That can't be it.... I just- Don't wanna lose my best friend._

 And yet, his heart wouldn't stop pounding. 

They arrived at his room, and Rantaro slowly creaked the door open, hoping his roommate wasn't here. He usually wasn't.

 He glanced down again at the boy's happily bouncing frame by his side, and he was overcome by the urge to press a kiss to his cheeks, still rosy from the cold air outside. This had been happening a lot lately. He had always been affectionate with Kokichi, never shying away from the small boy's touch. However, lately it felt like he could just never get enough. It felt like he  _craved_ it. When Rantaro thought about it, it was probably because Kokichi had stopped asking him for things as frequently. Like he was starting to not need him anymore. 

Because of Saihara.

Rantaro walked over and turned on the desk lamp. 

The thought of being alone in this dark room with Kokichi suddenly seemed a little  _too_ appealing. Rantaro suddenly felt the urge to touch Kokichi, even though he hadn't asked for it. He chewed his lip nervously to shoo away the thought. After all, that was weird. Yet, he felt like the need to play it safe all of a sudden.

"Want me to sleep on the floor...?" He asked in a voice he himself could hardly hear. With the weird thoughts he had been having lately, he thought it wouldn't be a good idea to sleep in the same bed as the purple-eyed boy. 

Kokichi seemed offended at the suggestion, and Rantaro quickly apologized. Kokichi continued to pry for answers Rantaro wasn't sure he knew. Finally, he spit out the first thing that came to his mind, 

"Do you...think what we do is  _normal_?" 

As soon as the question left his lips, he felt sheepish. He realized he sounded a little pathetic, and yet, it was just what was on his mind. Many people in Rantaro's life had tried to sway him away from Kokichi. Their words truly affected Rantaro, even if he didn't want them to. The word they always used was 'normal.' 

_'What you two do isn't normal for friends.'_

Deep down, Rantaro knew they were right. Did that mean that he and Kokichi were wrong, though? It didn't feel wrong, but everyone else seemed to think it was. 

People thought... it made him gay. The thought stung his heart. Sometimes, Rantaro heard a voice in the back of his head, asking him if maybe it was true. 

"Who cares if it's normal?" Kokichi boldly declared. "You're my best friend, and I can express my love however I please, society be damned!" 

Rantaro gaped at the small boy's confidence. He desperately wished he could be so sure of himself. But that's why he had followed Kokichi as his leader back in high school. He wasn't strong, he wasn't accepted by most people, he wasn't even a very good person most of the time, but he knew how to charm and inspire people. Rantaro took in the sight of Kokichi giving his inspiring declaration while dressed in their old uniform, and it felt like all of his doubts were washed away. Kokichi gave him the strength he didn't have to be himself. 

 He really missed DICE. All the friends they had made, how they all looked out for each other, and how Kokichi had lead them on grandiose schemes and minor pranks all the same. When he tried to share his sentiment with Kokichi, he just pushed the topic away as he always did. Rantaro didn't want to forget, though. He always wanted to hold those memories of travelling around, causing trouble, late night strategy meetings over Skype, and fulfilling Kokichi's every order as his second-in-command. He wished they could just go back sometimes. 

"Hey, Kokichi? I'm sorry about the way I acted tonight. There's been... a lot on my mind lately." Rantaro's tried his best to convey his sincerity. However, even with the doubts about himself cleared up, there was still something bothering the tall boy. 

"But listen, I don't think you should've did what you did tonight..."  As soon as Rantaro said the words, he wished he hadn't. He huffed at how obvious he must sound. 

"Rantaro Amami, are you _jealous_?" 

The word jealous stunned Rantaro, he felt heat splashing all across his face. It felt humiliating, especially as Kokichi laughed at him relentlessly. He loved the boy, but he could be a real pain in the ass sometimes. Kokichi had hit the nail on the head, and he knew it. Rantaro supposed there was no point trying to hide it now, Kokichi wouldn't let him. It wasn't his fault he was uncomfortable with some strange guy causing Kokichi to feel more distant from him. 

"Oh, poor, silly Rantaro. Even if he becomes my boyfriend, he won't replace you as my best friend." Kokichi cooed, seemingly reading Rantaro's mind.  The statement would've eased Rantaro, had it not been for the use of  _that_ word. Kokichi having a boyfriend? Rantaro didn't understand why, but he despised the thought. Maybe because it just didn't seem to suit Kokichi?

"But you don't need him, Kokichi." Rantaro voiced his thoughts, "You have me." 

Before he had even realized it, his hand was stroking the side of Kokichi's face. He felt the loathsome lack of self-control that had become so familiar to him lately creeping in. 

The thought drove him crazy. He loved touching Kokichi, even if that made him weird. Even the first time their lips touched, back in middle school. Kokichi had confessed his love for Rantaro that day. The taller boy had no idea how to react at first, he hadn't realized his best friend was gay. He suddenly thought about all the times they had changed in front of each other, slept together, held hands, and became a bit uneasy. He remembers thinking that it was wrong; because that's what he had always been told. Two boys shouldn't love each other. But then, when Kokichi clumsily smashed their lips together, he realized he was the one who was wrong.

He didn't feel repulsed by the sweet taste of grape soda on his friend's lips, he only felt love. He stared down at the blushing boy sealing their lips together, and thought he was beautiful. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling that was supposed to disgust him. But they had made the mistake of being caught by his girlfriend at the time. Rantaro was terrified when he realized she had taken a picture. He knew what would happen if the photo got out; everyone would think he was gay. Of course, two boys kissing seemed pretty gay after all. But Ouma had taken the fall for him, coming out of the closet publicly. Everyone naturally believed it was all Kokichi's doing, and Rantaro had been too afraid of being lumped in with him to correct them. He had been a coward, he should've been honest with them. He didn't care that Kokichi was gay, or even if he had feelings for him, he still loved him unconditionally and would always be his best friend.

The thought of someone else claiming Kokichi's lips the way he had infuriated him.

_That's right... You shouldn't have kissed him, because you already have me for that._

"If a kiss is what you want, I can give that to you. All you have to do is ask, y'know?" The words came softly from his lips and he guided his hand to Kokichi's chin, ready to follow through with his command. But it didn't come, Kokichi only squirmed nervously before asking, 

"Is that what you want...?"

_What I want?_

Rantaro didn't have a reply. Maybe he did want it. Maybe that was why he got so jealous. Maybe that was why he ached for Kokichi to ask for him. It would make sense, wouldn't it? 

But that couldn't be the case. If he was the one who wanted Kokichi, then... 

Rantaro didn't like where his thoughts were going, so he pushed them all away and tried the question again.  

_What do I want?_

"I... want you to be happy." He answered truthfully. He thought that was a good answer, but Kokichi broke their contact harshly and began to collect his things. Rantaro realized he must've done something wrong. 

"Where are you going...?"

"Back to my room, duh." Kokichi snipped. 

Amami felt his heart overcome with panic. He didn't understand it, but Kokichi was suddenly leaving. He knew he couldn't let that happen, because... 

Amami saw the door crack open and rushed to stop it. 

He slammed the door back to it's closed state, pinning Kokichi below him with it. He wanted to beg him to stay, plead with him to stay away from Saihara. He didn't want anything to happen between the two of them. He needed to separate them. His pleas had come out as a demand, and he realized he had made a mistake. 

Kokichi gave him a bone-chilling stare as he pressed the taller boy backwards. It was the same demeanor he showed to their greatest enemies, and it locked Rantaro in his place as he helplessly watched the small boy leave.

As Kokichi shut the door, the feeling that he was going to lose him returned. It had been the same feeling that plagued him for days while he waited by the small boy's hospital bed for him to wake up. The thought that maybe he never would. He would never forget that feeling.

That day, Rantaro had been a coward. He was too afraid of being shunned by his friends to truly stand up for Kokichi. Seeing the boy covered in blood and bruises made his heart feel like it would burst, and yet Kokichi saved him yet again. 

 He had been so desperate to apologize and make sure his best friend was okay, but when he tried to find him in his next class, he was nowhere to be found. After searching around for a while and finding no trace of the boy, he decided to skip the rest of his classes for the day. He figured Kokichi had gone home early, like he tended to do. As he made his way to the bus stop, he felt a distressing sensation in the pit of his stomach. He knew something was wrong, so he tried calling and texting, but no one answered. He'll never forget the terror of walking into the dark and empty house, finding his best friend on the floor. 

It didn't even seem like it could've possibly been him. That figure on the floor that was writhing, bleeding, _dying_ on the dirty bathroom floor. He saw the pill bottles scattered about and realized he had done this to himself. Rantaro screamed and cried as he held the boy in his arms, fumbling with his phone to call an ambulance. Every twitch of his fingers as he struggled to dial the number felt like he was bringing his friend closer to death. He remembers pleading with the woman who answered the phone to come quickly, come  _now._ He begged the boy not to leave him as he slowly lost his strength. He slapped his hand against his cheek, shook him, did anything to force him to survive. 

He remembers waiting for what felt like hours with tears streaming down his face until the paramedics finally burst through the door. Rantaro offered the boy in his arms up and pleaded with them to save him. He told them that he loved him, he couldn't lose him. They rushed him to a hospital and strapped him down to a gurney, Amami ran as fast as he could to keep up with them. He remembers seeing the tubes sticking out of Kokichi's throat, pumping the poison and bile straight out of his stomach. The sight made him nearly vomit; he couldn't believe that was the same boy he knew. None of it felt real. 

He heard nothing but the sounds of machines whirring and the steady beeping of Kokichi's heart as he lay next to him. He rested his head on the boy's lap and sobbed until he fell unconscious. He stayed for as long as the hospital staff would let him each day. He looked down at Kokichi's black eye and split lip, reminding him that this was all his fault. All of this happened because he didn't protect Kokichi. He let Kokichi get hurt, so badly that he wanted to die.

That's when Rantaro knew he was done hiding. He prayed for Kokichi to wake up, so he could make it all up to him. From now on, he would never deny how much he cared for the boy, he would give him the world if he asked for it, and he would  _always_ protect him. 

_Because I can't lose him like that again._

Rantaro didn't know how long he had been standing in that same spot, but it felt like the trance Kokichi's hateful gaze had left him in was finally broken. He remembered what his purpose was; to protect Kokichi. No matter what, even if it made the small boy hate him. He couldn't trust Saihara to do the same, so that's why he could never hand him off to the detective. Rantaro nodded to himself as he made his decision. 

 

 

-

 

 

 As Rantaro approached his best friend's floor, he thought hard about what he would say to him. Rantaro knew the way he was acting was unreasonable, but he couldn't help himself. He saw the door to Kokichi's room in the distance and tried to calm his rapid heartbeat. 

He wasn't expecting to see Kokichi heave the door open and start running in the opposite direction. Rantaro thinks he might've heard the boy crying. He felt unease build within him as he saw Kokichi becoming distant down the hallway. Rantaro instantaneously began running after the boy, he didn't know what had happened, but Kokichi seemed like he was in trouble. However, as the tall boy attempted to pass by the still-open door to Kokichi's room, another figure emerged. 

The two crashed into each other, sending the mysterious figure tumbling to the floor. Rantaro's frame was sturdy enough to handle the impact, only stumbling backwards a bit. The tall boy was slightly disoriented from the impact, still feeling a buzzing sensation from where their bodies had violently crashed together. Before he even thought about the circumstances, he immediately turned his concern to the figure he had knocked over. 

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Are you hur-" Rantaro began to reach a hand out to the person now seated on the floor, before he recognized their face. "...Saihara?" 

The detective rubbed at the pain concentrated on his head, before jerkily looking upwards at the sound of his name. "...Amami-kun?"

The two boys stared at each other for a few moments in confusion. They both opened their mouths at the same time to speak. 

"What are you doing here?" The two asked in unison. 

Saihara quirked a brow up in curiosity at Rantaro, who realized to his own chagrin, that he was the one who was out of place here. That's right, he was here for.... Kokichi! 

Rantaro let out a shallow gasp as he looked behind the detective to scan the hallway. Kokichi was nowhere to be found now. Saihara began to pick himself up off the ground, blocking Rantaro's view. He then realized that if Saihara had been in that room at the time Kokichi burst out of it, crying, then... 

"What did you do to him?" Rantaro challenged the boy with a merciless tone. Saihara seemed to pale at the question, immediately avoiding eye contact with Amami's intense glare. He stuttered over what might've been an apology before pausing. The detective put a hand to his own chin and turned his analytical gaze toward Amami, seemingly losing the tenseness Amami's accusatory tone had caused. Amami only sharpened his glare in response. 

"Amami-kun... Sorry, but, are you  _following_ Ouma-kun?" The accusation caused Amami's eyes to widen as he flinched away from the words. The detective wasn't exactly wrong, but what does it matter to him? Kokichi is  _his_ friend, and he only wants what's best for him. Amami tried to force himself to regain his composure. None of this mattered right now, because Kokichi was getting further and further away with every second he wasted here. 

"Weren't you about to do the same...?" Amami was only guessing, but he seemed to hit the mark. Saihara winced and a slight blush spread across his face. Amami felt a hint of annoyance at the boy, but began to make his way past him. He needed to find Kokichi now, before he got himself into trouble. "Look Saihara, I don't know who you think you are, but Kokichi is my best friend. I'm going to look out for him, so you can just stay here." Amami stopped walking to deliver his final message to the boy. "After all, you said you would leave him to me from now on,  _didn't you?"_ Amami turned to study Saihara's expression as he spoke the words. 

Saihara kept his gaze steady, but it seemed heavy with concern. Saihara only gave a small, forced nod in response. Amami couldn't shake the feeling that he was being insincere; after all, he wasn't nearly as good a liar as Kokichi. 

But that was a problem for another time, Amami turned and began to race after the small boy who had disappeared moments ago. 

 

-

 

Amami had searched around the dorms for what felt like hours, but had only been minutes. As usual, calling and texting Kokichi had yielded no results. He checked every corner, every bathroom stall, every hiding spot he could possibly imagine, but found no sign of his friend. He had been sprinting around in circles now, and finally ended up back at the front lobby. He panted in exhaustion as he realized the boy might not be in the building anymore. He looked out into the dark night through the glass walls at the front entrance. 

He struggled to understand why Kokichi would've run out alone into the dark night, but he had exhausted all other possibilities. He had even checked all of the rooms Kokichi might've visited, like Kiibo's and Iruma's. Kokichi was deathly afraid of the dark. The fear had been developed after a gruesome attack back in middle school, Amami didn't know all the details, but he knew that Kokichi had been emotionally scarred by the event, so he tried not to ask too many questions. 

Deciding it was the only place left as an option, he made his way outside in a rush. 

It was eerily quiet outside, no signs of anyone around. It was probably around 4 a.m. at this time, so most people were asleep, even on a night like Halloween. Rantaro figured if Kokichi was out here, he was probably the only one. He began shouting out his name as he jogged around the perimeter of the building. 

Nothing. 

Had Kokichi really gone so far? Amami found it hard to believe, and concern knotted in his stomach. He took a deep breath as he began to run through the dimly lit pathways that surrounded the dorms. Maybe he had gone to campus for something? Amami tried to remain optimistic as the tension radiated in his body. 

After searching around paths for an eternity, Amami saw something that caught his eye on one of the trails. There had been a loose piece of concrete where a tree's roots had burst through on the walkway, and beside it he saw some sort of paint. It seemed insignificant at first glance, but Amami was desperate for anything to point him in the right direction. He bent down to examine the scene, but it was too dim for him to make anything out. He pulled out his phone and activated the flashlight, examining the spot once again. 

Amami fell breathless as he realized he wasn't looking at a sloppy painting left on the concrete, but blood. 

Fresh blood. 

Before his senses could even process the scene, he heard an agonizing cry from just up ahead. It sounded like...

"Kokichi!" Amami heard his voice blaring out in a panic as he scrambled to stand. He nearly tripped over his own feet as he frantically rounded the corner ahead to meet with a confounding sight. His legs felt heavy and he found himself unable to move as he processed the spectacle. 

Kokichi lay curled up in a ball on the ground, seeming to cough up blood. A girl hovered above his suffering frame, long dark hair brushing against the ground as she knelt down to grab Kokichi's face. She was completely focused on the small boy, and hadn't noticed Rantaro's shocked figure gaping at her with confusion. She let out a nauseating giggle at the boy who lay nearly unconscious underneath her. 

That's when Rantaro realized he knew the girl. She was someone he hadn't seen for years; someone he had hoped he would never see again. The girl who had ruined Kokichi's life, and almost ruined his, back in middle school. The girl who had followed him around and pestered him for months before he finally agreed to date her. Tsumugi Shirogane. But why was she here now? She had been accepted into HPU as well?  How had he not seen her up until now..? 

Rantaro's confusion was cut short when he saw a her fiddling with something in her hand. It was a tool, she gripped it tightly and breathlessly laughed, 

"Don't fade away just yet, Kokichi~ I'm not done making you despair just yet! Please, endure it for little ol' me?" Her voice was sugary as she spouted the baffling words. Rantaro watched helplessly as she rolled Kokichi onto his back, the small boy had blood trickling down his face and his eyelids fluttered weakly at the girl. She quickly readjusted herself to hold the boy's leg down as she crouched beside him. That was when it hit Rantaro; she was hurting Kokichi. He didn't know how or why, but he knew he had to stop her. 

If only he hadn't wasted so much time. 

He watched the girl swiftly raise the weapon in her hand, recognizing it as a hammer. He heard a crunch as the hammer swung sharply downwards to connect with Kokichi's foot. The disoriented boy's eyes suddenly shot open as he wailed out in pain. She grabbed his maimed ankle and began to press her finger's into the bloodied spot where the hammer had shattered his bones. He cried out in agony, and Rantaro suddenly felt a white hot intensity envelop his body. He heard nothing more than a ringing in his head as he approached the two. 

It all felt like a blur as Rantaro grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her backwards. She looked up at him from the ground in utter confusion. Rantaro's foot connected with her jaw with a sharp thud. She let out a distressed cry as she scrambled to her knees. There was blood and dirt on her face from where he had kicked her, and she looked up at him once more with terror in her eyes. It looked like she recognized him. 

Rantaro wasn't one to hit women, but she had hurt Kokichi. She had hurt him horribly.

She had to die.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah whoops i caved and made this chapter Amami's pov #noregrets
> 
> also if some of u are still a little confused about Amami's motivations/thoughts; GOOD :3c
> 
> I left some tiny hints, but those are still a secret for later; even in this fic he's still the SHSL ???
> 
> Also I just wanna say again thank you all so much for the love and support, it means the world to me! It's getting harder to reply to every single comment but please know that I read and remember all of them and I appreciate it so much! <3


	14. Doing What's Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 chapters for 3 povs???  
> imma be honest, this wasn't at all what i had originally planned, but im not mad about it.  
> we're swapping heads like crazy here! @.@
> 
>  
> 
> also im really glad you guys liked the Rantaro POV ^^ makes me glad I (impulsively) wrote it!

"Was your kiss just a lie, then? You don't have any feelings for me at all?"

Saihara felt his heart constrict as he stared into the small boy's vivid lilac eyes. The small boy seemed to implore him through his intense stare, and Saihara found himself unable to withstand it as he let his eyes flicker shut. He would be lying if he said their kiss had meant nothing to him. 

As soon as he heard the question read aloud, he felt his heart flutter. He wondered if Ouma would even pick him over Amami-kun, and he unexpectedly did. That was the first time Saihara had ever kissed another boy, though he had had his fair share of thoughts even before meeting Ouma. The purple-haired enigma only seemed to confirm his suspicions that he was interested in both men and women. He had thoroughly enjoyed their kiss, much to his dismay. Ouma was a surprisingly skilled kisser, which only added to the list of mysteries surrounding the small boy. 

However, the events that followed after confirmed yet another suspicion of his; Ouma was very unstable. 

"I'm sorry, Ouma-kun. That was a mistake, I shouldn't have done that."

He had been weak for allowing Ouma to do something so reckless; the truth was he was too entranced to put a stop to the situation. Every time the detective let himself believe there was a chance the two of them could have a normal relationship, the boy always stunned him with a new dilemma. From doing drugs to violent outbursts, the boy was extremely unpredictable. For a while, that had only amplified the detective's interest in the boy. Saihara had filled his most trusted notebook full of jottings of the small boy's every action, reaction, and more. In a way, it was as if Kokichi Ouma had become his latest case. 

But he had decided that that would end now. Saihara could no longer deny the spark between the two of them, and had tried to be as rational as possible when coming up with a solution. He took something Kaito and Maki had suggested in passing into consideration. It might be easier for the two of them to be friends before roommates. At the end of the day, that was what Saihara wanted to be to Ouma first; a friend. Not a roommate, and not a lover. Living in such close contact with the admittedly alluring boy was clouding his good judgement, and rushing into any kind of relationship with someone as chaotic as Ouma could lead to disaster. 

After having kissed, Saihara figured they had crossed a line that shouldn't have been crossed; at least, not so soon. He hardly knew anything about the boy's past, much less his thoughts and feelings. He compulsively lied and used people, yet seemed to still have a soft side. If he was going to move forward and possibly pursue Ouma as a lover, he would need to be his friend first and foremost; and as of this moment, Saihara still didn't know if he and Ouma's relationship was more akin to friends or enemies.

"Just... Trust me. This is best for both of us." Saihara soothingly added in an attempt to comfort the boy. The last thing he wanted to do was see him hurt. Tears rolled solemnly down Ouma's cheeks, and Saihara thought that he should wipe them away before his thoughts were interrupted by a sudden cackle from the crying boy. 

"Nishishi~ Just kidding, Saihara." The small boy's facial expression changed on a dime, causing Saihara to wince. "I don't care what you do, because you don't matter to me at all." The words speared into Saihara's heart as he felt a sharp sting. Sometimes, it was so hard to tell which Ouma was the real one. Saihara worried that it might be the one who stood before him, waving away the situation with a lack of interest. He tried to call out to the Ouma he wanted to be real, but was interrupted once more by an indignant shout. 

"Didn't you hear me, stupid? I said I don't care!" The boy grit his teeth as he turned to rush out the door before Saihara could even process his thoughts. He stood still as he watched the purple-haired boy disappear from the room. 

He figured Ouma wouldn't be happy with the suggestion to switch rooms, but this reaction was as unpredictable as always. After having studied Ouma for quite some time now, he had started to pick up on some of his habits. It seemed that whenever Ouma felt cornered or emotionally distressed, he would accidentally let his true feelings slip out. In response to this, he would cover his outbursts up by either switching to a joking attitude or dialing up his reaction so far that everyone figured he was just messing with them. It was a commendable strategy for hiding one's emotions, but thanks to Saihara's notes, he had been able to recognize the pattern. 

In this case, Ouma had seemed to use both of his favored reactions at the same time. That meant that Ouma was genuinely afflicted. 

_If I'm right, then... I hurt him._

Saihara felt a pang of guilt as he realized he must've come across as a complete ass. He hadn't explained himself or his thought process at all. He blamed it on the fact that he was still disconcerted from the confrontation earlier in the night, but that was no excuse. He needed to apologize to Ouma. 

The detective snapped out of his thoughts as he felt his feet carrying him out the door. If he ran, he could probably catch up to him in n- 

A sharp thud resonated in his head as he collided with something just beyond the door frame. It was a harsh impact that caused him to lose his balance. He fell to the floor, landing on his bottom. A dull pain pounded away at his head as he rubbed his temples to try to stop the ringing in his ears. 

He heard a muted voice from above, and realized he must have crashed into a person. He figured he should get up and apologize for not watching where he was going. Actually, that voice sounded vaguely familiar... 

He jerked his head up to meet with the person in question. As he thought...

"...Amami-kun?" He stared at the boy in confusion for a moment, before voicing the question that came to mind. 

"What are you doing here?" The two asked in unison. 

_Uh, what?_

Saihara made a perplexed face at the question being thrown back at him. Was it strange for him to have been in his own room? 

The detective became acutely aware of the fact that he was still on the ground, and began to stand himself up to continue their conversation. As soon as he was back at eye level, he was met with a menacing glare. 

"What did you do to him?" The taller boy uttered in a harsh tone. Saihara seemed to be under scrutiny for some reason. The green-eyed glare made him uncomfortable, so he cast his gaze to the side as he considered the question. When Saihara thought about the situation he had just landed himself in it seemed that 'him' must refer to Ouma, who had just run out of the room seconds before him. If that was the case, then... 

"Amami-kun... Sorry, but, are you  _following_ Ouma-kun?" Saihara's curiosity got the best of him as he let his inquiry slip out. He decided to stand his ground, even against the menacing stare from Amami-kun. There was something about the taller boy that concerned him deeply, especially when it came to Ouma. He wanted to get to the truth of the situation, even if it scared him a tad. 

The tall boy didn't seem to appreciate his accusation, however. He turned the allegation back around on Saihara, who flushed in response. It's true that he was about to pursue after Ouma, but only because he was worried about him. 

_Then, maybe Amami-kun is doing the same?_

Saihara tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, even as Amami talked down at him as he made his way after Ouma.

"After all, you said you would leave him to me from now on,  _didn't you?"_

Saihara did his best to keep his face from faltering. He only stiffly nodded in response to the harsh words. After all, it was the truth. 

Saihara stood helplessly in the door frame as he watched Amami chase after Ouma. He resigned to defeat as he closed the door behind him, returning to the empty room. 

This was what had wanted, right? To distance himself from the small boy. So why did it feel so wrong?

Amami-kun's parting words still echoed in his head. 

He remembered how rattled he had been when Ouma had blamed him for the events at the party. That scene had added the final nail in the coffin to the detective's internal debate about finding a new roommate. However, the way the small boy seemed to panic when Amami had found out his secret caused Saihara to believe there may have been a deep seeded reason for the boy's lie. He may have had no other option to turn to at that moment. At least, that's what Saihara hoped was the case.

Regardless of how much the deceit had hurt the detective, he decided to lie with Ouma. The boy seemed to have a bad influence on the detective, but he had the feeling Ouma had needed him in that moment. He almost seemed to need to be  _protected_ by the lie. When Saihara wondered what it was he might've needed protection from, he came to the conclusion it might have been Amami-kun. 

Still, the menacing looks and assault of crude accusations that followed the lie made the detective wonder if he had misjudged the situation. After all, the two boys were best friends, so maybe Saihara had no place trying to meddle in their affairs. With a heavy weight on his heart, he agreed to leave Ouma to Amami-kun for the time being. 

Although, Saihara himself didn't even know if he had any intention of upholding that promise; it seemed Ouma really was beginning to rub off on him. Yet, facing Amami-kun once again had been discouraging to say the least. Saihara might be the one who was in the wrong by continuing to follow after the small boy. After all, Ouma might just be stringing him along...

He felt paralyzed by indecision as he stared thoughtfully at the notebook sitting on his bed. 

_Bzzzt Bzzt._

 Saihara was pulled away from his thoughts as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was probably Akamatsu-chan checking up on him again. 

He casually pulled out his phone, but was shocked to see the sender was, in fact, Ouma. As he began reading the message, he felt his anxiety begin to spike. From his notification screen the message had an ominous start, but when he pulled the full message up, he felt adrenaline start to rush through his body. 

_Today 3:34 am -  Kokichi Ouma: Saihara help me. I'm outside and I dont think im alone. I'm scared._

Saihara's mind flashed to the image of Amami running after Ouma after urging Saihara to stay away, and his mind began to reel with worst case scenarios. Saihara knew he couldn't just stand around and do nothing, he immediately bolted back out the door and began to run as fast as his legs would carry him. 

He just hoped to God this wasn't a sick joke. 

 

 

-

 

 

Saihara feared he might have taken too long, for as soon as he made his way outside he was greeted by complete silence. There was no sign of Ouma anywhere, nor any sign of where he might be. Saihara had texted Ouma back frantically on his way, but had received no answer. He felt his heart palpating throughout his entire body, his breaths were short and shallow, and the world felt like it was closing in on him. He covered his face with his hands and patted his cheeks a few times, desperately trying to chase away the overwhelming dread swallowing his thoughts. If something had happened to Ouma because he had left him alone... 

He felt like he might be having a heart attack before realizing the symptoms of his current condition. Saihara was probably having a panic attack. He was no stranger to the sensation. He feared that because he was so incapacitated by his condition, Ouma might be in even more danger. He knew he needed to pull himself together, but he just  _couldn't._ No matter how hard he tried, he just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. He tried to move his legs, but he found he could no longer command his own body. 

He wanted to scream at himself for being so incomprehensible and weak, but all that came out were ragged breaths and choked sobs. The girl at the front desk must have noticed his panic, because he heard the door open behind him as heels clicked on the pavement. She questioned him in an alarmed voice, which only amplified his fear. 

"Hey, hey, calm down!" The girl blurted at him the words he hated the most. 

He shook with fear and frustration as he tried to fight the engulfing ache of horror. He knew he needed to get a hold of himself, for Ouma. 

Saihara covered his ears and closed his eyes, trying to focus on his breathing. He desperately searched for calming, rational thoughts as he blocked out all else. Saihara thought of Ouma's peacefully sleeping face, and how easy to read he was when he slept. He thought of Ouma's wild hair being swept around by the wind as they spun endlessly and laughed like children. He thought of the warmth he had felt waking up next to him, followed by the butterflies in his stomach. And as he thought of the spark of warmth that had shot through his body when their lips had touched, he realized the world was coming back into focus. 

Saihara took a long, deep breath. He uncovered his ears and opened his eyes, blinking a few times. He felt tears in his eyes, but he wiped them away. He apologized to the woman next to him with a shameful bow of his head. 

He knew he couldn't control such a thing, but it still left him with a sense of guilt. His body still felt numb as he forced his legs to move forward. His shaky legs managed to hold up as he broke into a run. The crisp night air stung the sweat on his body, giving him chills as he made his way down the forested walkway to campus. 

He paced around the dark trails for a while, catching his breath every once in a while. Saihara began to wonder if this really was a joke. He hoped Ouma wouldn't be that cruel, but he could never be sure with him. 

As doubt swirled in his mind, he slowed to a stop. It was so dimly lit and quiet that it made his hairs stand on end. He stopped to just listen for a moment, but now he was feeling frightened in his own way. Saihara clenched his fists and lamented for not thinking to bring something for self-defense. As he listened, he heard little more than the chirping of crickets and rustling of trees. However, as he listened, he began to hear a distant sound that was repeating in cadence. It almost sounded like the bass pounding subtly on a far-off radio, but the beat was much too slow and inconsistent. When he focused, he could pin down the direction it was coming from; just up ahead. 

Saihara thought to himself that he might be running into danger, but if Ouma was there, he might need his help. He tried to swallow his fear as he began to run towards the source. As he got closer, the the volume seemed to gradually increase. He began to make out the noise more distinctly as a repeating pounding noise. The blows sounded hard and heavy, and Saihara inhaled sharply as he recognized the sound as a punch. He really was about to run into trouble. 

Finally, the sight had a visual to match. Just a little further up the path, Saihara laid eyes on a gruesome sight. Amami-kun had someone pinned underneath him, and Saihara felt his mind start to buzz with horror. His eyes flashed to the victim, and he felt a strange mix of relief and disorientation when he realized the person was not Ouma.

It was a girl. 

Rantaro raised a bloody fist and brought it swiftly down once more, hitting her bloodied face and already crushed glasses. Her body only limply twitched as the blow connected. Saihara was horrified by the sight, halting his movements so suddenly he nearly fell forwards. His mouth hung open as the surreal feeling of watching a crime unfold gripped his chest with dread. As a detective, he had only ever been presented with the aftermath of brutality. To witness it first-hand was an unfamiliar feeling that he was completely unprepared for. Amami hadn't seemed to notice him as he heaved erratic breathes and shook the blood off of his fist. When Saihara saw how blood-soaked and grisly the girl's face looked, he covered his mouth to stop himself from vomiting. 

Amami hastily fumbled to grasp a small instrument, a hammer, it seemed. He raised both hands above his head and- 

Saihara's body moved instinctively as soon as he realized what Amami-kun was about to do. He didn't have any answers to the numerous questions on his mind, but he knew he had to put a stop to whatever was happening as quickly as possible. 

"Amami-kun!" Saihara exclaimed as he sprinted towards the boy. He seemed to catch the tall boy's attention, as he winced at the sound of his voice and looked up at him frantically. Saihara tackled the taller boy to the ground and began to struggle to wrestle the hammer out of his hands. Amami was stronger than Saihara had anticipated, and pushed him off of him. Saihara recoiled from pain as Amami turned the tables and pinned him to the ground instead. 

Both of their eyes were filled to the brim with shock and horror as they gaped at each other with ragged breaths. 

Saihara then remembered that he was now being held down by the boy who was about to murder someone right in front of him moments ago. All the color drained from Saihara's face as he remembered that Ouma had been out here alone. 

"W-where is Ouma!? What's going on!" Saihara was surprised by how compelling his voice sounded, even though he was shaking like a leaf on the inside. Amami's expression turned back to madness and Saihara felt his blood run cold. 

"Ouma? You came here for Kokichi, didn't you? I thought I told you to stay away!" Amami shouted as he grabbed a fistful of Saihara's shirt. Saihara felt his body shaking as Amami lowered his voice and continued, "Kokichi got hurt... by  _her._ I saw it." Saihara felt a rush of concern at the boy's words, followed by a troubled look into the taller boy's eyes. He seemed to be completely loosing his grip. "She needs to  _die."_ Saihara's worst fears were confirmed, he was trying to kill the unknown girl. 

Even if the situation was as he said it was, murder was only going to make things worse. He would fine-tune the details later, but right now he desperately needed to calm the unstable boy as soon as possible. Saihara remembered Ouma stating several times that he was highly against violence. It may have been a lie, but it was now Saihara's only chance to make it out of this situation in one piece. 

"...Is that... What Ouma would want...?" Saihara ended up sounding much more unsure of himself than he had hoped, but his words still caused a jerky reaction from the boy on top of him. His eyes flickered with doubt for a moment, and Saihara figured he had been correct. He wanted to sigh in relief, but the triumph was cut short by the taller boy. 

"What the hell do you know about what Kokichi wants? You don't even know him." Amami bitterly replied. 

"T-that's true..." Saihara stared with a gloomy look as he began to try rationalizing once more, "But... I know that killing someone is only going to cause more harm than good now. I don't think that's what's best for Ouma-kun right now. If he really is hurt, like you say, then we should be focusing on helping him, don't you think?" 

Saihara gave his best argument as the taller boy began to loosen his grip with every word. 

"First of all, there is no 'we.'" Amami-kun responded gravely, beginning to remove his weight from Saihara as he stood. The detective sucked in a deep breath as he scanned his eyes over the beaten girl's body. She was still breathing, if only faintly. He needed to respond quickly. He rolled over and approached the girl's face. Her nose had been severely damaged, and shards from her broken glasses littered her face. She had already begun to bruise and blister from the bashing, and she was bleeding heavily from her head. Saihara knew it could be fatal if she lost any more blood, and removed his jacket to wrap it around the gashes. He heard Amami begin to breathe shakily form beside him as he began to pace around. The gravity of what he had just done was probably catching up with him now. Saihara hoped that would make him less dangerous, but he remained vigilant. 

After he finished dressing the girl's wounds as best as he could, he turned to face the dazed Amami-kun. 

"You need to tell me everything that happened tonight, now." 

 

 

-

 

 

The two boys carried the girl's unconscious body through the woods. Saihara couldn't believe he was doing this. He tried to remind himself that it was all for Ouma's sake. Once they had carried her far away enough from the paths that no one would be able to see her, they laid her down in the leaves. Amami-kun had tried to convince him that they should tie her up, but Saihara had entirely refused. Saihara explained that if Amami's allegations that she had attacked Ouma first were true, the girl would most likely not want to press charges. 

He explained that the girl was apparently a hostile ex-girlfriend who held a nasty grudge against Ouma. Amami himself was unsure how she found out about Kokichi's whereabouts or how long she had been following him, and Saihara made a mental note to investigate the situation once everything else was sorted out. 

Finally, after making sure the girl was in a stable condition, they started making their way back to the path they had come from. Amami began to lead the way to Ouma's location in silence. The taller boy had apparently moved Ouma's body off the concrete where he had found him and rested him against a nearby tree before Saihara had found him assaulting the girl, Shirogane-chan. It was so dark and he had been so focused on the girl that Saihara hadn't even noticed him there. 

Saihara had never seen the small boy in such a pitiful state, and sight nearly brought tears to his eyes. He was out cold and Saihara approached him to examine his injuries. It appears Amami-kun had been telling the truth, Ouma had definitely been assaulted. He was bloody and bruised; albeit not as badly as Shirogane, but still. His most notable injury was on his ankle. Saihara winced as soon as he laid eyes on it; it was severely fractured, possibly broken.   

"I need to get him to a hospital, quickly." Saihara began. 

The detective started to wrap an arm around the small boy's body, but was stopped when Amami grabbed his arm. 

"No! Thank you for your help...but," Amami began in a panic. Saihara was surprised to hear thanks from the taller boy, who had been almost entirely silent up until now. "I don't need you anymore. And... neither does Kokichi." 

Saihara's theory that there was something strange going on with Amami and Ouma was only getting stronger as time went on. Saihara frowned at the boy's words. 

"With all due respect, Amami-kun, it's not a good idea for you to go anywhere but back to the dorms right now." Saihara gestured to the blood that stained Amami's clothes and skin. Even if it was Halloween, the boy needed to change and shower as soon as possible. The boy scowled as his gaze shifted from Saihara to Ouma. "I'll take it from here, okay? You should go back and change before the sun starts coming up..." Saihara tried to be as polite as possible to avoid turning the situation hostile. They had worked together temporarily for Ouma's sake, but it seemed that alliance was now wearing thin. Amami's jaw clenched as he cast his gaze downward, 

"...Fine. But just this once." Amami conceded weakly. He began to pull his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Saihara. The detective was confounded at first, before realizing Amami was silently asking for his number. 

_Ah, I see._

Saihara entered his number hastily before handing it back to the taller boy. 

"Text me everything that happens and let me know exactly where you take him, also make sure you tell me..." Amami began to drone on with specific instruction for Saihara, who impatiently nodded along until the taller boy was satisfied. He sighed deeply as he turned his back to them. 

"Saihara, I want you to know that I expect you to uphold your promise after this is over." Amami asserted. Saihara nervously fidgeted, but forced out a hum of agreement to satisfy the taller boy.

_This might become a problem..._

"Okay...and one last thing," Amami's voice shifted to a sincere tone, catching Saihara off guard. "Thank you... for stopping me..." 

Amami began to walk away before waiting for a response, disappearing into the dark path as Saihara stood perplexed by the act. Saihara blinked a few times before looking down at the small boy. 

"Don't mention it..." He whispered softly to himself. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all once again for the support! <3


	15. Lapse in Judgement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out this adorable fanart made for this fic! <3 :
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BfFTiAuDurx/?taken-by=saihara_draws
> 
> I can hardly believe people like my story enough to draw art for it, it's very humbling so thank you so so much!
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟWarning: extremely NSFW content below

The last thing Ouma remembered before passing out was a sickening laugh. It was shrill and theatrical, and strangely familiar.

He had been paralyzed with fear when he realized he was alone in the dark. He fumbled for his phone to text Amami-chan to come get him as usual, before remembering the fight they had. He didn't have time to run through his options calmly, so he just went with his gut. He chose to ask Saihara-chan for help. He wasn't sure why, he was pretty sure the detective hated him, but he felt in that moment he could rely on him.  

He vaguely remembers a cold metal being suddenly pressed to the back of his neck, before his body went rigid with shock. Literally. He felt volts of electricity shooting down his spine as he descended to the ground helplessly. His body involuntarily shook and the pain began to set in. He also remembers someone grabbing his hair and smashing his face into the ground. That wasn't so bad, though, he was used to that sort of thing. He had blacked out for the most part after that, only to awaken in a setting that was a stark contrast to the one he had last been. 

The darkness had been replaced by blindingly white walls. The silence replaced by hums and whirs of machinery. The hard ground replaced by a soft cushion underneath his head. 

Though this scene was obviously preferable to the other, Kokichi couldn't help but let out a groan. 

He was just so sick of hospitals. 

He stared up at the boring white ceiling for a few minutes, trying to piece together what might've happened to land him here this time. All he knows is that someone had attacked him, and he had a theory that that person was the one who had been following him for a while now. 

The room was empty. There were no gifts, nor anyone waiting at his bedside with bated breath. He felt a pang of sadness at the thought that maybe everyone was just getting tired of worrying about him. 

Maybe he was just a burden. 

He felt pain in a few places on his body. Mostly his head, the back of his neck, and his right ankle. When he focused on it, he realized his ankle actually felt quite... heavy? 

He tried to readjusted himself, but felt a swelling pain from his foot that caused him to grunt sharply. He pulled the thin sheets off of his body to reveal the source of the pain. His right foot was locked in a bulky cast that covered up everything from his toes to just above his ankle. Ouma didn't know how to react to the sight, so he only stared blankly with a frown on his face. There were going to be lasting consequences for this, but he didn't have the energy to dwell on them right now. 

The door to his room suddenly began to creak open. 

He saw Amami-chan's face staring back at him in the frame. His appearance only confused Ouma even more, but he still managed to beam a smile at the tall boy. 

"Kokichi...!" Amami's concerned voice lightened Ouma's mood a little; even if no one else cared about him, Amami always would. 

Ouma's mind came to the understanding in that moment that Amami must have come to his rescue last night. The thought actually stung a little, knowing that he had asked Saihara for help. The detective must've just ignored him. He probably thought he was just playing another prank for attention...just like he always does.

And yet, even though he had been so cruel to his best friend, he was still there for him. A hopeless feeling swirled in his chest as he felt his heart flutter at the thought. 

So hopeless. 

He felt hopelessly in love as Amami hurried to his side and placed an affectionate hand on his cheek, babbling on in his usual big-brotherly worriment. 

Ouma hopelessly wondered why it couldn't have been Saihara instead. Things would be so much easier if Saihara held him the way Amami was now, squeezing tightly and making him feel safe. Amami began spouting his account on what had happened last night, but Ouma only half listened. He fought his hopeless tears as Amami-chan crawled into the small bed with him, holding him tightly against his chest. 

"It was...Shirogane." Ouma's attention was finally caught by Amami's statement. 

Shirogane had been the one following him all this time? She had attacked him? Ouma felt his stomach drop. 

He had always hated the girl, and the two of them had done their best to make each other's lives a living hell when they had known each other. It was no secret that Shirogane had won in the end when she had exposed Kokichi's secret to their entire school, and yet she persisted. Even long after Amami had broken up with her, she continued to make Ouma's life a living hell. The girl could hold one hell of a grudge. She blamed Ouma for 'ruining' her relationship with Amami, who she claimed was the love of her life. Ouma had written her off as a delusional tramp. 

Yet, even now, she was still finding ways to fuck with his life. Ouma rolled his eyes. He thought when he had moved away from that town that he had finally seen the last of her, but apparently he was wrong. As Amami-chan gave him the details, he sensed that he was being dishonest. It wasn't that he was lying, per se, it was more like he was just omitting some important details. 

The nurse knocked on the door to his room, causing both boys to jump a little. Amami chuckled as he stood up from the bed to open the door for her. Amami sat as the nurse sauntered over to Ouma and greeted him with a sugary smile. Ouma nearly rolled his eyes. Being in the hospital was never a pleasant occasion for him, so he didn't understand why the staff always tried so hard to pretend everything was fine and dandy. 

"Hello, Ouma-kun. How are you feeling today?" She began politely. 

"Well, aside from the fact that I feel like I just got hit by a semi-truck, I'm fantastic!" Ouma returned with a sweet smile of his own. He heard Amami snort before covering his mouth, and the nurse only nervously fussed in response. Ouma smirked at his best friend knowingly. Even if Amami was raised to be polite and well-mannered on the outside, Ouma knew his true nature was almost as fucked up as his own. They were truly kindred spirits. 

"A-Ah... I see. Well, that's only to be expected I suppose. You were brought to us last night with a fractured ankle. Luckily, the break seems to be stable, so you won't require any sort of invasive surgery for treatment. However, you will need to be off your feet for at least 4 weeks, I'm afraid. The doctor will talk more with you later about physical therapy, as well as casting options." 

As the woman talked, Ouma's mischievous smile faded. It wasn't really funny anymore, to say the least. He saw Amami-chan clench his jaw from the corner of his eyes. 

The woman asked if he had any questions before making her way out of the room. The boys sat in silence for a while, deep in thought. 

Ouma was about to be completely helpless for at least a month, not to mention having to go through physical therapy. Ouma had always been so independent when it came to taking care of himself, and now he just felt so pathetic and weak. 

"Ouma, I'm here for you." Amami assured the small boy as he grabbed his hands. Ouma stared blankly into the taller boy's imploring green eyes. He had always relied on Amami-chan emotionally, but now he was going to need him physically too. Ouma felt his heart sink as he realized his dependency issues with the boy were only about to worsen; and yet, he felt so happy. 

He was so thrilled that his beloved Amami-chan was going to be by his side. He had all but forgotten about the fight they had had as he wrapped their fingers together carefully. 

"Then, does that mean you're gonna carry me everywhere I go from now on?" Ouma playfully winked at his friend, earning a bright chuckle. 

"Of course. It's like I already told you; I'll do anything you ask." Amami promised warmly. 

In that moment, Kokichi nearly lost all of his composure. A dark curiosity overwhelmed him, wondering what it would be like to take advantage of Amami-chan's kindness. He knew it would be completely and utterly wrong, but that had never deterred him from doing anything before. It was almost as if Amami was an untouchable being in his mind. He knew he didn't deserve to put his filthy hands anywhere on the taller boy's body, yet he fantasized about letting his hands roam across the taut muscles underneath his shirt. He pondered the consequences of pulling the taller boy on top of him and commanding him to pleasure him. Amami's hand sweetly rubbed circles into his as he innocently blinked at the small boy, oblivious to the obscene thoughts in his twisted mind. Kaede and Shuichi's faces flashed through his mind. Kokichi smiled effortlessly back at him, masking his shameful thoughts.  

The two of them continued to talk and joke as if nothing strange had happened at all. Eventually, the doctor arrived at his room and explained to him that after choosing a cast and scheduling an appointment with a physical therapist, he was free to be discharged. Ouma ended up choosing a brace for his foot. Even though it was bigger and bulkier, it could be more easily removed during bathing and therapy than a regular cast. He was also given a pair of crutches to use until he was allowed to put pressure on the wound once again. It was all so overwhelming and inconvenient that Ouma turned to Amami after the doctor had given him the OK to leave and sighed heavily. Amami rustled his hands through Ouma's hair with a soothing half-smile. 

Yeah. This was gonna suck. 

 

 

-

 

 

The crutches were awkward and almost too big for Ouma as he hobbled down the dorm room hall with Amami lingering close-by. He was probably waiting to catch the small boy when he inevitably tripped and fell. Ouma rolled his eyes, feeling more like a child than he ever had in his life. 

"You're hovering, mom." Kokichi glared at his friend, who shot his hands up in surrender. 

"Hey! I'm just worried is all. This is still new to you." Amami defended himself as he walked slowly to match Ouma's struggling pace. Ouma bit his tongue in frustration, he just wanted to throw the stupid crutches off and crawl back to his dorm. That would probably be much easier. 

While they were making their way to the elevator, Kokichi remembered the fight he had with Saihara. He wondered if the boy would even be there when he arrived, or if he was already long gone. What would Kokichi even say to him if he was there? Ouma was hurt by the detective's actions, but he couldn't blame him. Before he had even arrived on his first day at HPU, he figured he would drive his roommate to hate him eventually. Ouma just didn't expect that he would end up liking him so much. 

Things would probably never be the same between him and Saihara now. His intentions were to fix their strained relationship, but he may have ended up breaking it beyond repair. All he knew was he didn't want Saihara to leave him. 

Ouma made a misstep as he walked that caused him to hit his brace against his crutch. Searing pain shot up his leg as he gasped, and Amami instantly grabbed his shoulders to steady him. Annoyance boiled over as he cried out, 

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" Ouma yelped as he threw his crutches to the ground with a loud clattering. The small boy nearly lost his balance as he danced on one foot before Amami circled around and wrapped his arms around Ouma's legs, lifting him into the air. 

Ouma was startled by being suddenly hoisted off the ground, but relieved to have the pressure taken off of his swollen feet. He glanced down at Amami, who smiled patiently up at him. Ouma became acutely aware that Amami's hands rested just below his ass, and couldn't fight the heat that started rising to his face. Ouma's hands squeezed tightly where they rested on Amami's shoulders. He felt flustered and humiliated; two things he absolutely despised being. 

"If you wanted me to carry you, you could'a just asked." Amami only joked up at him with a lighthearted grin, causing Ouma to punish him by pounding the top of his head with his small fists. The taller boy simply laughed off the assault as he let his friend's body slide down to a more comfortable position. Ouma simply gave in, burying his blushing face into Amami-chan's neck as he carefully wrapped his legs around his waist. 

Amami dutifully bent down to pick up the crutches Ouma had dropped, and began walking with his arms wrapped around the small boy's back. Ouma nearly swooned from how light the strong boy made him feel. He also nearly died from how childish he felt being carried like this. Luckily, the halls were pretty sparsely populated at the moment, probably due to most of the students nursing their hangovers from the night before. 

It felt like an eternity before Amami finally began to lower him back to his own two feet at the door to Ouma's room. Amami was very gentle as he steadied the boy on his good foot, handing him his crutches once more. Kokichi muttered a humbling thanks as he adjusted himself back onto the vile contraptions. 

Before he could turn to open the door to his room, he was stopped by Amami-chan. 

"Hey, Kokichi, wait. I don't know what's going on between you and Saihara, but there's something I need to tell you." Amami had an unusually serious tone in his voice, which piqued Kokichi's curiosity. "Last night, when I found you... Saihara ended up showing up as well. He's the one who took you to the hospital because I..." Amami trailed off. Kokichi's mind hung on the words he spoke. 

_Saihara was there? So... he answered my text after all?_

"Well, that doesn't matter. My point is, Saihara agreed to leave you alone after last night. I intend to make him keep it." Ouma felt his heart drop into his stomach at the words. Of course Saihara would come to help him, he was just a nice person. It didn't mean anything. It didn't mean that Saihara didn't still hate his guts. That's why he didn't visit or call Kokichi in the hospital. He was just a nuisance that the detective couldn't wait to be rid of. 

"So, if he makes you uncomfortable or does anything sketchy... please come stay with me." Amami-chan continued in a concerned voice. 

_Oh, silly Amami-chan. If there's anyone who makes people uncomfortable, it's me._

The small boy felt the self-loathing burning a hole into his heart. He simply nodded along with Amami-chan's words to soothe his worries before the two said their goodbyes. Amami-chan held the door open for Ouma as he shuffled across the threshold into the room. The door shut behind him as he stared at the floor, feeling numb. 

He heard nothing but silence, and he slowly raised his head to observe his room. 

He was alone. 

 

 

 

-

 

 

Ouma had figured Saihara would be long gone by now, but it still hurt. He had been spending the past few hours on the floor staring lifelessly down at the blank sheet of paper in his sketchbook. He tapped his colorful pencils repeatedly to try stirring up some kind of inspiration, but none came. There were no classes today, so he had little else to do. He had checked his phone several times, but the only thing there was an old message from Kiibo the night before asking if everything was okay. 

He desperately wanted to get his mind off of everything that had happened. He still couldn't believe Shirogane was here. Only HPU students are allowed on campus, so she must have been right alongside him this whole time, and he hadn't noticed. The thought was honestly disturbing. He wondered where she was now, but he also couldn't bring himself to care. He shifted uncomfortably to accommodate his brace, reminding himself of the inconvenience. 

He kept forgetting it was even there until he tried to move. It was annoying, but hopefully he would adjust sooner rather than later. He thought maybe he would draw the sunset before snorting at how cheesy it seemed. Ouma was reminded that the doctor told him to keep his brace on at all times except during bathing. That meant... he was gonna have to sleep in this thing? Ouma felt his will to live leaving his body as he flopped backwards onto the floor. He chuckled softly to himself to chase away the tears that stung behind his eyes. 

 His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten all day. He groaned in response and carefully rolled onto his side, avoiding putting pressure on his broken bone. He feared he was going to waste away now. He barely ate in the first place, but now he couldn't even go for a simple walk to the vending machine. He giggled again when he thought maybe that had been Shirogane's plan all along; to make him suffer a slow and painful death through starvation. 

_Nah, she's not that smart._

He thought about texting Amami-chan to bring him some food, but he could hardly bare to face the tall boy right now. The lewd thoughts that had circled his mind earlier finally caught up to him, as did the guilt. Plus, he had been just short of humiliated when he had to be carried to his dorm by him earlier. Although, he hated to admit it, but he did kind of enjoy the act. Amami was so frustratingly lovable. 

_Yeah! It's all Amami-chan's fault. It's not like I'm just a sick pervert or anything._

He mentally berated himself until he grew exhausted, deciding to let his eyes rest for a moment. He felt the welcoming embrace of sleep start to envelope him. All sounds from outside the window faded to a muted hum, and he began to feel heavy as he drifted off. He hoped he would at least be able to escape the grip of the brace around his leg in his dreams.

A few moments passed, or maybe hours, until Ouma was awakened by the sound of the creaking door. He let out a sharp breath of awareness as his eyes flickered open. The small boy craned his neck to face the door, becoming suddenly aware of the fact that he was still on the floor. 

"Ouma-Kun..." He heard a familiar voice ring out from the room, before meeting eyes with Saihara-chan. "W-why are you on the floor?" 

Ouma felt an irritation building as he propped himself up on his elbows. He twisted his body to lean back against his bedside as he shot a grimace at the detective. "I don't know. Why're you in  _my_ room." Ouma decided he was going to be petty. "I thought you were moving out." Ouma challenged the detective, causing him to fidget.

"It's not that simple... I'd have to appeal to the student services first and I'm not sure how long that will take.  For now, I figured maybe we could just stay in separate rooms and figure out where to go from there?" Saihara's voice sounded so patient, but his words were unsavory. "I'll be staying in Kaito's room for a while, so you can keep this room. I just came to get some things for the night." 

Ouma felt overcome with misery at the realization that Saihara would be leaving him after all. 

"Whatever, fine. Just hurry up and get out of my space." 

Saihara closed his eyes and sighed at the immature comment. He opened his mouth to say something in response, before his eyes shot back open. His astute gaze focused on the brace wrapped around the small boy's foot. It seems he just noticed.  

"Your foot..." He trailed off wistfully.

The last thing Ouma wanted right now was his pity. 

"Yeah, it's broken! No big deal." Ouma shrugged as he lightheartedly answered. 

"Broken...! Ouma... You need to elevate it!" Saihara chastised the boy as he dropped his bag by the door. He started making his way over to Ouma, reaching out a hand to the boy on the floor. His tone was so concerned that it made Ouma sick. The detective had no right to waltz in here and pretend he gave half a shit about him now. Ouma slapped the hand offered to him away crudely. 

To his surprise, the detective's eyebrows furrowed into a look of frustration. The detective bent down and wrapped his arms around the helpless boy, who struggled in response. 

"Let me go!" Ouma childishly shouted as he pounded his fists into Saihara's back. If everyone was going to treat him like a baby, he might as well act the part. 

"Stop hitting me! I'm just trying to hel- OW!" Saihara wrestled a hand around Ouma's legs as he endured the abuse. Ouma felt his weight lifted off the ground and stopped his attack. He stared up at Saihara, dumbfounded.

The detective had picked him up as if he were a bride. Blood rushed to his face, but he could no longer find the strength to struggle. Ouma instead wrapped his arms around Saihara's neck meekly and buried his blushing face into his neck. He felt the detective flinch at the act, but he only adjusted his grip on the small boy as he walked him over to his bed. Ouma was surprised, and a little turned on, by how easily Saihara had managed to hoist him into the air. Ouma himself wasn't exactly a challenge to lift, but he hadn't expected the detective's slim frame to be able to hold him without even trembling. 

As Saihara lowered him gently onto the bed, Ouma inhaled his scent one last time before his head connected with the pillow. The boy smelled like pine trees and dirt. What the hell had he been doing today? Ouma wanted to ask, but was distracted by the way Saihara's body hovered over his for just a moment. 

The detective wordlessly grabbed pillows off of his own bed and began to prop Ouma's injured foot up under them. Ouma fell speechless, but Saihara broke the silence on his own. 

"I understand that you're upset with me, but please, at least take care of yourself." Saihara sighed in exasperation as he sat at the edge of the bed, next to Ouma's prone body. The detective inclined his body to face Ouma as he spoke. 

Between Saihara's surprising assertiveness and tender care, he found himself completely enraptured in the moment. He had forgotten what he was even mad about in the first place as he reached out to grasp at Saihara's arm. 

"Maybe I like it when you take care of me instead."  Ouma knew his mindset was wrong, but in that moment he wanted nothing more than to feel cared for by the boy who sat next to him. Even though... "Even though you hate me..." 

He hadn't meant to say that out loud. 

"I... don't hate you, Ouma-kun." 

Ouma wondered if he was lying to spare his feelings. After all, why else would he want to stop rooming with him from now on? Speaking of which...

Ouma suddenly remembered why he was mad. Although, the feeling had faded into a melancholy need. He needed Saihara to stay with him. 

Want, need, and lust for the boy overtook him as he found the strength to lift himself up and wrap his arms around the detective's waist. Ouma tugged him closer until their noses we're lightly touching. The detective's gaze widened as he examined the boy's face, just inches away from his own. Ouma licked his lips nervously as he looked deeply into the boy's eyes. Saihara might not want to be around him personally, but Ouma already knew the detective wanted him physically. Maybe he could use that to his own selfish advantage. 

Ouma tilted his head delicately as he pressed their lips together for the second time. Saihara let out a soft noise of protest, but put up no fight. Ouma lightly sucked on the other boy's bottom lip as he tightened his hold on his waist. If Saihara really wanted to, he could break away from him easily. The other boy felt stiff and made no effort to kiss him back, even grasping at Ouma's hands defensively. Ouma felt hurt by his resistance. If he lost his physical connection to the boy, he would have nothing left to keep him here. 

"What's wrong? You don't like kissing me anymore...?" Ouma whispered to the boy in between pecks. He felt Saihara's grip tighten. 

"We... shouldn't do this, Ouma. There's a lot going on right now, and we need-" Ouma cut off his words with another kiss, growing needier and sloppier. He didn't care what Saihara had to say, especially if he was going to reject him. He needed to push farther, until he made Saihara drop all his common sense. He pulled the surprisingly heavy boy back, rolling over to lay on top of him in the bed. Ouma let out a sharp hiss as his foot was strained by the movement. Saihara let of a gasp of concern, but Ouma didn't give him the chance to react to anything other than his lips lightly sucking on his neck. "O-Ouma!" Saihara breathed out his name in a panicked moan. 

Ouma pulled back and shifted to his side, still pinning down the flustered detective on his back. He stared down at him with parted lips, waiting to be pushed away or told to stop. 

"You don't want me...?" Ouma inquired suggestively. Saihara struggled to pull himself together, swallowing hard at Ouma's question. 

"I... I'm attracted to you, Ouma... But..." That was all Ouma needed to hear. He silenced the rest of the boy's sentence by firmly caressing the side of the detective's face, and leaning his face into the opposite side. His lips ghosted over Saihara's ear as he whispered to him. 

"Then let's just have some fun..." 

He felt the boy shiver from the sensation, and Ouma knew he finally had him right where he wanted him. He licked the sensitive skin around his jawline, pressing wet kisses along his way. Saihara's hips bucked slightly when Ouma bit down at his neck. Ouma felt Saihara's hand rest on the small of his back, curling into a fist with his clothing. He heard the detective's breathing becoming more ragged, and the urge to utterly destroy him raged within the small boy. He wanted to see Saihara come completely undone for him. 

Ouma sucked hard on the detective's neck, moving his hand from his face to his hair, tugging lightly. A disheveled moan slipped from Saihara's mouth, before he stifled it. Ouma felt the heat burning in his groin at the way the detective had so easily become putty in his hands. Apparently, he wasn't alone. Ouma swung his good leg back over the detective's body to straddle him, only to be met with the other's already hard member pressing against his leg. Saihara hissed at the sudden contact, and Ouma simply gave his signature giggle. 

"So hard and I haven't even touched you yet. I'm flattered, Saihara-chan." The detective stuttered in response, but Ouma went right back to kissing his neck. He moved lower, licking along his sharp collarbone. As he devoured the boy's pale skin, he dipped his hips down to grind their lengths together. The rush of pleasure overtook them both, Ouma whimpering as his hardness increased while Saihara raised his hips to follow the blissful contact. 

Ouma fumbled with the buttons on Saihara's shirt as he continued to indulge in Saihara's neck. He briefly wondered if he might be leaving behind bruises from his abuse on the boy's soft skin. That was a problem for later, he thought to himself as he unbuttoned the boy's shirt completely, clearing a path for his destination. As he trailed kisses down Saihara's chest, he felt his heart beating rapidly. He wanted to get even more adorable reactions out of the detective. 

As he followed the path down to Saihara's tightened stomach, he felt Saihara lace his fingers through his hair. 

"O-Ouma... What're you...?" The detective croaked out the question in the midst of his pleasure. 

"I think you know exactly what I'm doing, my beloved Saihara-chan~." Ouma hinted fervidly at the boy before letting his hands work on the buttons to Saihara's pants. He watched the flushed boy prop himself up weakly to look down at him in concern. He opened his mouth to speak once more, but the small boy dipped down to mouth the outline of his cock through his jeans. All that spilled from his mouth was an obscene whimper. 

 Ouma smirked victoriously as he unzipped his pants. He hastily yanked his edgy-looking underwear down to reveal his hardened shaft. Ouma involuntarily licked his lips as the detective's member stood inches from his face. It felt like something he shouldn't be seeing, something he didn't deserve. And yet he hungrily enveloped the head before Saihara could tell him no, tasting the salty tang of precum against his tongue. As Saihara let out a shameless moan, Ouma found himself torn between wanting to destroy and wanting to be destroyed. He twisted his mouth around the twitching length as he slid his mouth up and down.

He came to the conclusion that Saihara was much too precious for someone as dirty as him to deserve. He wanted to worship his cock for allowing him the privilege of sucking it. He tentatively licked the length of it before taking it into his mouth once more. He swirled his tongue around the shaft, feeling Saihara tremble as he strangled his moans. Ouma wished he would just let them out, the sound was so intoxicating it could make him cum on the spot. Hearing the lewd sounds spilling from his trembling lips was like a dream to Ouma, one he never thought he would live. 

Ouma briefly wondered if maybe he  _was_ dreaming. If Saihara had never shown up in the room that night at all. The thought terrified him, and he forced Saihara's cock into the back of his throat to remind him that this was real. He struggled to fight his gag reflex as he let the tip rub against his throat, loving every second of it. Saihara let out a long, repressed groan as he gently smoothed the small boy's hair. He was so kind. 

Ouma messily dragged his mouth off the boy's notable length with a distinctive pop. A string of saliva connected from the head of his cock to the small boy's lips. He looked up at Saihara with his tearful eyes from the strain against his reflex. 

"You're so sweet, Saihara-chan..." He blinked innocently at the detective, who looked like he was on the edge of orgasm until Ouma had stopped. Saihara bit his lip in frustration, breathing unsteadily and flushed. "But I like it  _rough."_ Ouma growled suductively at him.

To his absolute elation, Saihara tightly gripped a handful of his hair. Ouma whined lustfully as he felt his cock twitch from the aggression. Saihara forced his head down to meet with his dick, and sighed in alleviation when Ouma opened his mouth to take him in once more. The small boy hummed a moan of appreciation against his cock as he drank in the arousing taste of Saihara's heated skin. He skillfully swirled his tongue around the length as he bobbed his head, all while Saihara tightened his hold on Ouma's hair. It still wasn't enough. He made up his mind; he wanted Saihara to absolutely destroy him. 

He pushed the boy to the brink of orgasm once more, moaning wantonly against his cock as he massaged it with his mouth and tongue. He worshiped every inch, kissing the tip and licking away the bitter liquid. He used his free hand to grope Saihara's balls, feeling them tighten as he got closer. When he knew Saihara wouldn't last much longer, he once again slipped his mouth completely off of Saihara's length, breaking their contact. 

He heard Saihara let out a distressed gasp at the loss. When he looked down to meet with Ouma's eyes, he looked shocked to see his devious expression. 

"Are you... doing that on purpose!?" Saihara exclaimed in a pained voice, to which Ouma only tilted his head, acting clueless. Saihara seemed to come undone, yanking Ouma's head back in resentment. Ouma sharply inhaled from the pain. He sensed Saihara hesitate at his reaction, loosening his grip slightly. He whined at the loss, looking up at Saihara and pouting cutely. Saihara was taken aback as he realized what Ouma wanted from him, but he lidded his eyes and swallowed his concern. 

Saihara forced Ouma's face back down to his cock, and steadied his voice as he commanded the small boy. "Suck it." 

Ouma's own member ached in pleasure at the confidence in the usually shy boy's voice. Ouma's hot breath spilled out in a satisfied sigh as he took in the boy once more. He lightly sucked on the tip, causing Saihara to growl in frustration. Finally, Saihara forced Ouma's head down onto his cock. Ouma felt it roughly slide into his mouth, hitting his throat once more. Saihara held him down as he choked on his thick member. 

"P-pinch me if you want to stop, okay?" Saihara worriedly cooed. The sentiment almost made Ouma laugh as he made the boy moan loudly with his tongue.  

 _Saihara-chan is so precious._  

He loved every second of feeling the detective rock his hips up to fuck his mouth, roughly pull his hair, and abandoning all morals as he groaned with carnal pleasure. Ouma wasn't expecting the detective to readjust his leg to rub against his aching cock, giving him the indulgence he needed to get off. 

He truly didn't deserve Saihara Shuichi. 

"I'm... so close, Ouma..." 

The deliciously rough treatment combined with Saihara's ragged breaths as he rubbed against Ouma's cock threatened to send him over the edge too. Ouma moaned depravedly as he begged for more, more, and more.

He felt Saihara's grip on his hair tighten painfully as he thrust into his mouth repeatedly, massaging the back of Ouma's throat. The friction from Saihara's leg mounted, and Ouma helplessly rubbed into the euphoric friction. He felt his orgasm coming as- 

"Ouma-kun!" Saihara wept his name as he released hot liquid down his throat. The ecstasy heated his body as he felt his hips spasm into his own climax. 

His eyes watered as he hurriedly swallowed down Saihara's cum, pulling off his mouth to breath. He had cum in his own pants and Saihara hadn't even touched him with his hands. He felt lecherous shame at the thought, wiping his mouth free of saliva and coughing. His body still felt numb from the high of his orgasm as he flopped over onto his side. He closed his eyes and caught his breath, almost forgetting about the person heavily breathing next to him.

His eyes fluttered open to see Saihara gazing down at him. When their eyes met, Saihara nervously looked away as if pretending he wasn't just staring. Ouma smiled contently, grabbing Saihara's hand and pulling him down to his level. 

Saihara had tucked himself back into his pants, but left his shirt unbuttoned. Ouma tiredly nuzzled his head up against his bare chest, sighing in satisfaction. 

"Ouma-kun..." Saihara sounded serious, but Ouma just wanted to bask in the warm afterglow. He hummed in exhaustion, hoping the boy would just shut up and cuddle with him. 

"I think... you need to change your pants..." Saihara stated. Ouma's eyes shot back open as he realized Saihara was right. Embarrassment threatened to show on his face, but he found an excuse. 

"But, Saihara-chan. I don't know if I can change my pants by myself anymore." 

It wasn't really a lie. Up until now, Ouma hadn't even thought about the specifics of living with only one working leg. He felt a bit humiliated, but he knew Saihara would be kind enough to understand. 

"O-oh... I see." Saihara responded awkwardly. Ouma quirked an eyebrow at him. 

"Wanna help me out or...?" Ouma impatiently led the boy, who blushed and nodded nervously. Ouma was amazed at how bold he had been during their sexual act not even minutes ago, only to get embarrassed at the thought of helping him change pants. Ouma snorted, much to Saihara's distress. 

The two of them hobbled over to the bathroom to clean themselves up. They didn't talk the entire time until they were redressed and ready to leave the bathroom. Ouma grabbed Saihara's wrist as he turned to open the bathroom door. 

"Will you... sleep with me tonight?" Ouma asked as innocently as possible. One way or another, he had succeeded in buying Saihara's time. Now was the hard part; convincing him to stay. Or at least, he thought it would've been hard. 

"...Just for tonight." Saihara replied without looking back. Ouma felt his heart skip a beat at the response. Ouma hopped on one leg, jumping into a position to hug Saihara excitedly from behind. Saihara flushed and scolded the small boy, "I mean it, Ouma! Just for tonight... " 

Ouma nodded attentively as he squeezed the detective tightly. He still couldn't believe what had happened between them. He knew they were probably going to have to talk about this later; Saihara didn't seem like the casual sex type. But right now, he was just happy to have him here. He didn't want to be alone.

Even if it really was just this once, he would take whatever he could get. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can still hardly believe all the love and support this fic has gotten!! Every kudos and comment really makes my day, thank you all so much! 
> 
> So after thinking for a while, I'm considering making two separate endings for this fic, in which Ouma ends up with someone different in each one. I think it would only be fair since I seem to have an equal amount of people on both sides of the fence here, including myself ^^' 
> 
> If that happens, the "split" wont take place for a while, and when it does I would make it obvious by the chapter names. Let me know what you guys think? 
> 
> Also remember: Both ships are good and deserving of love~


	16. Craving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your comments and opinions on the last chapter! It's given me a lot to think about, but right now im still a little unsure. For now, I'm going to continue as planned until much later in the story and take things from there :)
> 
> Also for transparencies' sake: ((WARNING: SPOILERS, KINDA)) My original plan was for this fic to end with SaiOuma, but there will be a ton of OuMami along the way, hence why I tagged both ships. That being said, if Amami does end up getting his own 'happy ending' I would put just as much thought and development into that version as Saihara's! Keep in mind that as the author I know a lot of secrets not yet revealed to the reader, so I promise it WOULD make sense for Ouma to end up with either boy. 
> 
> Regardless, thanks again for reading! There's still a ways to go before the end, so let's enjoy this emotional roller coaster together!

Ouma should've known it was too good to be true. 

He had dragged Saihara back into bed with him last night, falling asleep to the sound of his soft heartbeat. Now he lay alone in the bed as he stared up at the ceiling, feeling more alone than he ever had. He glanced over at the clock and sighed when he realized classes started soon. He rolled over, wincing at the pain from his swollen ankle. 

He figured maybe Saihara had just gotten up early today, but as he scanned the room he realized that wasn't the case. The detective was a simple guy, he didn't have much clutter or leave many traces of himself. Yet, Ouma instantly noticed the emptiness. It seemed Saihara had cleared out his belongings and left his side of the room completely void of life. Ouma fell desolate as he realized the boy really intended to leave him. Even after last night... 

Ouma jumped when he heard a knock at the door, followed by a groan when he realized he would have to hobble over to open it. Why did Saihara choose to leave him while he was crippled? It seemed a little too cruel. 

Ouma steadied himself on one foot as he hopped unsteadily to the door, crashing straight into it accidentally. Still, he would much rather jump around on one foot then try to use his god-forsaken crutches. 

He leaned himself against the wall as he cracked the door open cautiously, looking to see who was outside. When he saw a splash of green hair, he sighed in relief, opening the door fully for his friend. Rantaro cheerfully greeted him as he made his way into the room. 

"I figured I would walk with you to class today. I know you're not helpless but I thought I could be useful." 

Ouma suddenly thanked his lucky stars that Saihara had decided to ditch him late last night. He had apparently come to some sort of agreement with Amami-chan that he would stay away from the small boy, so it might've been a disaster if he had found Saihara in his bed. The details of their promise were sketchy, but Ouma felt hurt at the premise of Saihara agreeing to leave him alone. He added it to the list of things that were currently hurting him. 

"Finally making yourself useful? Alright, Amami-chan, get on all fours and let me ride you like a horse to class!" 

"That's a little extreme, dont'cha think?" The taller boy chuckled as he ran his hands through his hair. Ouma caught himself staring. 

He silently cursed himself. He was supposed to be making progress on getting over the green-haired boy, but he was still so caught up in his magnetic charm. He wanted to force himself to think of Saihara, but that just made him stomach drop. The detective had seemed so into it last night, and yet he was still going to abandon Kokichi. Ouma felt a horrible sickness as he thought that maybe the detective had just used him. 

_It wouldn't be the first time that's happened._

"Hey, what's up? You seem stressed." Amami broke his chain of thought as he pressed a hand to the small boy's forehead, checking his temperature. He felt comfortable enough around Amami-chan to not lie. He shrugged and responded, 

"'Lot on my mind, I guess." He certainly wasn't about to go into details, though. 

Amami let the subject go without much objection, thankfully. He gathered Kokichi's belongings and slung his bag around his shoulders. Finally, he brought his crutches over to him. Kokichi sighed loudly as he adjusted himself onto the apparatus. Amami held the door for him as he awkwardly limped out into the hall. 

Every step was a struggle for the small boy as they made their way down the halls, filled with students coming and going on their way to campus. He suddenly envied their ability to simply walk around normally, and they all seemed to take it for granted. Kokichi felt like crying as they approached the elevator after what felt like an eternity. He found it hard to believe this was only the beginning of a long six-week recovery period. As they stood silently in the elevator, Kokichi's stomach suddenly broke the serene atmosphere with a ferocious growl. He still had no appetite, but recognized that he was going to become malnourished if he didn't get something in his system soon. He sheepishly looked up at Amami-chan, who seemed to have noticed. 

"When was the last time you ate?" Rantaro asked thoughtfully. He knows that Kokichi has a history of forgetting to take care of himself when left to his own devices. 

Ouma thought hard about the question, and realized he couldn't even remember. The last time might've been sometime before the Halloween party. He gulped nervously, preparing to be lectured relentlessly by his friend. 

"Uh... a few days ago, maybe?" Rantaro's eyes widened in fright at the statement, just as the elevator doors filed open. The tall boy chuffed as he shuffled out of the elevator and began walking towards the back entrance of the dorms, where the parking lot was. When Kokichi shouted out after him, Rantaro impatiently waved him off and told him to wait out front. Kokichi realized he was probably in trouble. 

If Rantaro could ground him, he would. 

He made his way towards the front entrance and waited. Eventually, he saw Rantaro's sleek black car roll up to the curb. It was a luxury sports car Rantaro had received as a reward for being accepted in HPU from his father. All Kokichi got from his father was a 'good riddance.' Kokichi failed to hold back a smirk as Rantaro rolled back the roof of his car and beamed at him with his designer sunglasses. He looked like such a playboy. 

"Get in loser, we're going out to eat." 

Kokichi giggled helplessly at the dumb reference; Mean Girls had always been their favorite movie to marathon during sleepovers. Kokichi hobbled over and tossed his crutches into the back, hoisting himself carefully over the passenger door to land in his seat. Some of the students around them stared or whispered to each other, and Ouma couldn't help but have a smug look on his face. He was skipping class with the hottest guy in school, after all. 

Oh wait, he was skipping class. 

It was too late to hesitate as Rantaro floored the gas, screeching away from the dormitories with a lighthearted laughter. Kokichi felt the wind tussling his already-messy hair and closed his eyes. He thought to himself that it might actually be for the best to skip Criminal Justice today, so he didn't have to face Saihara after what he had done. 

Running away from your problems never hurt anyone, right?

 

 

-

 

 

Rantaro had taken the boy out to a local diner and told him he would pay for his meal. Kokichi was secretly grateful, considering he didn't receive much monetary help from his father. Rantaro had grown up very wealthy, owning the nicest house on the block. Kokichi figured his family had to be filthy rich to afford sending thirteen children to private school. Kokichi's family was well-off, but nowhere near as much as his green-haired friend. If they wanted to, they could probably live in a mansion, yet they chose to slum it with the average folks for some reason. Whatever the purpose, Kokichi was grateful. It meant that he was lucky enough to have met Rantaro in the first place. If he hadn't, Kokichi would probably be dead by now. The tall boy wouldn't allow Kokichi to waste away. He brought him food, entertained him, made him happy, and watched over him. Kokichi would never understand why Rantaro was so protective of him, but he would always be in his debt. 

After Kokichi scarfed down a stack of pancakes and several glasses of grape soda, the two made their way back to Rantaro's car. Criminal Justice was over by now, and if they wanted to, they could make it back in time for their other classes. Rantaro stretched and yawned as they sat in ease after the satisfying meal, and turned to Kokichi. 

"So... Wanna head back to Hope's Peak now?" Amami asked with a hint of mischief in his voice. The small boy immediately picked up on the connotation. 

"...Or?" He smirked at the taller boy, who bashfully giggled. 

"...Wanna explore the town a little and make bad decisions?" As Amami-chan spoke the second option, all thoughts of behaving himself today disappeared from his mind. 

"Fuck yes." Amami threw his head back in laughter at the response, turning the keys to his car as it started with a rumble. 

It had been a whim, but Kokichi decided he desperately needed this today. He thought about how he and Amami used to do things like this all the time in high school. They used to sneak into the city pool late at night and go for swims, smoking and drinking whatever they could get their hands on together. Sometimes, they would bring all of DICE along too, but Ouma secretly preferred it when it was just the two of them. 

They would always skip classes together, finding creative ways to break out of their school's tight security systems. They would run home and play video games together under the forts made of blankets and pillows they would construct. 

His favorite way to pass the time with Rantaro was pulling elaborate pranks with him. The two of them were utterly unstoppable when they worked together. From filling the school pool with jello mix, to letting various farm animals loose to terrorize the staff, they were some of the best days of Kokichi's life. Once Rantaro started dating Kaede, however, he had mellowed out a lot. He became a lot more cautious and hesitated to pull crazy stunts with Kokichi anymore. It had let him down, but he kind of understood. Kaede was such a boring goody-two-shoes that Rantaro didn't want her to see him as a delinquent and leave him. Aside from that, Kokichi had learned that Rantaro had been getting into a lot of trouble with his father because of his antics. Eventually, the two of them settled down and left the adventures in the past. After all, they would become adults soon, supposedly. 

The Amami-chan with him now was blasting his music and signing along off-key as the wind whipped through his hair, and Kokichi snorted at him. It was nice to let loose every once in a while, like old times. Kokichi found himself singing along with the recognizable tunes as well, eventually evolving into a passionate duet with his best friend. When the song was over, the two of them just laughed breathlessly until their stomachs hurt. Kokichi felt so light and carefree, he had forgotten about everything plaguing him lately. 

Amami eventually pulled over onto a bridge in the middle of a forested area just outside the city, where a river streamed below them. He turned the keys to the ignition off and opened his door. He circled around and helped Kokichi out of his own seat. Kokichi guessed this was where Amami wanted to hang out. The small boy accepted his friend's help out of the car before leaning over the concrete railing and staring down at the glistening water as it rushed peacefully downstream. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the fresh, unpolluted air. 

"It's a little cold for a swim, don't you think?" Ouma peacefully bantered. 

"That's what makes it fun!" Amami responded with a bright, hypnotic smile. 

Amami suddenly circled around to wrap his arms around Ouma, causing him to gasp. Amami rested his head on Kokichi's shoulder as he snickered at the boy's reaction. Ouma didn't understand what was going on, but Amami pressing his body against his and breathing down his neck like that was.... 

He felt his feet lift off the ground, and let out a surprised cry. 

"Hey! Put me down, I'm not a child!" He wriggled in Amami's arms to no avail as he was carried down the bridge. 

"I know, but it's just so much easier to carry you when you're like this." Ouma got the sense that Amami was enjoying this a little too much. Ouma glanced down at the treacherous looking slope from the top of the bridge to the waterside, and realized he probably had no choice but to be carried. He stopped struggling and pouted as Amami walked for the two of them. 

When they got close to the riverbank, Amami sat down on a large piece of driftwood that had washed up on the gravel. Kokichi blushed violently, as he was now sitting on Rantaro's lap. He refused to look at the tall boy as his heart pounded, he pretended to be distracted by the water. Rantaro was so dense sometimes; didn't he realize how suggestive this seemed? He heard Rantaro rustling through his bag as the two sat awfully close together and Kokichi desperately tried to calm himself. 

After he cleared his face of any evidence of embarrassment, he swiveled around in Amami's lap. His blush almost returned as Amami opened his legs and readjusted so that Kokichi was now resting all of his weight on one of Amami-chan's legs, with his braced leg hanging over the tall boy's other leg. Kokichi held his breath as Rantaro looked down at him as if everything was perfectly normal. 

Maybe it was; maybe Kokichi was just overthinking things. They had done things like this before, but it felt different somehow now. It felt... like something private. Like a dirty secret between just the two of them.

Rantaro pulled out a small pack of cigarettes from his bag, and Kokichi raised an eyebrow at him. 

"You still smoke?" Kokichi inquired curiously. He had never smelled tobacco on Rantaro while they were together, so if he had been smoking this whole time he had been hiding it well. 

"I haven't in a long time." Rantaro explained as he unwrapped the plastic from the pack.  "What can I say? You bring out my rebellious side." Rantaro pulled out a cigarette with his teeth as he explained. The last time he and Rantaro had smoked together was in high school. Rantaro had never been the type to get addicted, which made Kokichi a little jealous. For a time, Kokichi had been addicted to cigarettes too. However, his ache for nicotine was never quite as strong as it was for other substances, so he managed to stave it off. Eventually, it became the one thing he could just enjoy every once in a while without growing attached. He knew they were horrible for him, but by that point in time he had figured his body was already a lost cause. 

He was surprised when Rantaro tilted the pack towards him, silently offering him a smoke. Kokichi looked up at him questioningly. 

"Are you sure? Smoking kills, y'know." Kokichi lectured halfheartedly as he pulled one out. He and Rantaro both knew just one wouldn't hurt. It's not like Kokichi had the money to become addicted to cigarettes now anyways. Amami was protective of Kokichi, but he always had faith in him. Even if it was a little misplaced sometimes, Kokichi liked that Amami didn't treat him like a helpless junkie. 

Rantaro shrugged and chuckled from his closed mouth. Kokichi hated to admit it, but it felt really good to indulge in bad habits with Rantaro like this. As he slid the thin cylinder into his mouth and rested it between his teeth, he felt himself being brought back to simpler times.

Rantaro broke his illusion by doing something unexpected, however. After the taller boy pulled out his lighter and lit the cigarette in his mouth, he stowed the lighter away. Kokichi felt strong fingers grip his jaw as Rantaro pulled his face in close, the cold metal from his rings sending a chill down his spine. The tall boy stared down at the cigarettes with hazy eyes as he used his already lit one to light Kokichi's. 

_Well, this was certainly different from old times._

Kokichi's heart pounded as the smoke filled his mouth. Amami's eyes flickered up to meet with his, and the two stared at each other as they took in a deep breath. Kokichi wasn't sure where the sudden intensity had come from, but he felt his self-control slipping. As the toxic air filled his lungs, he shuddered under Amami-chan's gaze, fidgeting slightly in his lap. The smoke seared his throat as he blew out, clouding up the small space between them. He started to feel warm, despite the cold air biting at his skin, a jolt of pleasure running to his brain from the rush of nicotine. He thought about taking another hit and breathing it out into Rantaro's mouth. 

 Kokichi decided he desperately needed to break the strange mood before he did something stupid. 

"So..." He began, catching Rantaro off guard. He desperately searched his mind for topics. "You ever gonna tell me what happened with Shirogane that night?" 

Kokichi cursed himself for bringing up such a heavy subject as he took another drag nonchalantly. Rantaro tapped the ashes off the end of his cigarette as he cleared his throat. 

"I already did, didn't I?" Rantaro sounded a little upset, but continued nonetheless. "I found her attacking you. She broke your ankle. I chased her off. Saihara took you to the hospital. That's all." Kokichi felt a little frustrated with how vague and short Rantaro was being. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something. There were just too many gaps in his story, and to many questions. Kokichi decided to pursue some of them. 

"Then.. Where is Shirogane now?" He asked while flicking his cigarette. Rantaro went silent, letting the burning object in his hand all but fizzle out as he stared blankly. All Kokichi heard was the sound of the water running and birds lightly chirping in the trees as he sucked in more smoke by himself. He stared at Rantaro's blank face, searching for an answer. 

"...I don't know." He responded desolately. Somehow, it didn't sound like a lie. "I really.... don't know." 

Kokichi was confused by the response. He sounded pained to not know where the girl was, assuming that was the truth. If that's the case... Was he searching for her for some reason? Kokichi wasn't allowed much time to ponder the mysterious circumstances before he felt Rantaro shift to get up. Kokichi shifted off of his leg to allow him to stand, sitting on the driftwood himself now. The boy threw his neglected cigarette to the floor before stomping it out with his foot, turning back to Kokichi with a sudden change of mood. 

"Let's worry about that later. Wanna swim?" Rantaro smiled brightly at him, making him forget his worries. A cold wind breezed through the small boy's hair, and he snickered. 

"You're batshit crazy, y'know that?" Kokichi teased. 

"But you love me, right?" Rantaro winked at him. Kokichi felt his heart drop. 

_Yes, I do._

Rantaro crossed his arms as he picked up the edges of his shirt, pulling up to reveal his defined stomach muscles. Kokichi swallowed hard as he averted his gaze, taking one last hit of his cigarette before tossing it. When he looked back up at Rantaro he was undoing his belt, completely shirtless. He glanced up at Kokichi, catching him staring. Ouma tried to play it off, but he was pretty sure he was drooling right about now. 

Rantaro removed his pants to reveal his favorite pair of tight black underwear. Kokichi tried with all of his might to avoid staring at the bulge that stuck out from the fabric ever-so slightly. Kokichi shifted uncomfortably as he began to untie his scarf. Rantaro approached him suddenly, pulling his loose shirt off of him. Kokichi squealed impulsively. 

"W-what!? You need help undressing, right?" Amami countered, trying to calm the startled boy.  

"I can take my shirt off you freakin' perv!" Rantaro sputtered from the accusation as Kokichi lifted off his long-sleeved shirt. He felt a bit self-conscious with how scrawny he was in comparison to Amami-chan's admirable body. A rush of cold air stung his exposed skin, and he shivered. Rantaro knelt down and began undoing the small boy's pants, causing Ouma to shake from more than just the cold. He tried to suffocate his dirty thoughts as he lifted himself up to let the tall boy shimmy his pants off. Rantaro seemed distracted. 

He was staring thoughtfully at Kokichi's bare legs as he began to undo his brace. Kokichi was surprised he didn't hear any snarky comments about his colorful choice of red and yellow underwear. The taller boy was perfectly silent as his eyes subtly raked over Kokichi's body. If he hadn't been staring at Rantaro himself, he might not have even noticed. When Kokichi felt the brace come undone, he sighed in relief. 

 Rantaro gently scooped him up into his arms, causing Kokichi to glow from the feeling of their warm skin touching. Rantaro chuckled as he shivered lightly, 

"Ready for this?" He warned. 

"Let's do this before I change my mind." Kokichi giggled into his best friend's chest as he began jogging towards the ice cold water. Rantaro didn't hesitate as he charged into the river headfirst, Kokichi letting out a shriek when the water splashed up to chill his exposed skin. Before he knew it, he completely submerged in the glacial water. He felt Rantaro's hands leave his body, and was amazed at how light he felt. The water was freezing, but it felt amazing to feel the pressure from his foot alleviated. Kokichi dunked his head under the water, using his arms to propel himself forward. Suddenly, it felt like he wasn't broken anymore. He blissfully let himself float underneath the water for a few moments, savoring the lightness of his body. It was so quiet that he forgot where he even was for a moment; forgot everything that was going on around him. 

He felt his lungs begging for air as he moved to emerge from the underwater refuge. He took in a deep gulp of air as his head broke the surface of the water. He kept his eyes tightly shut as he steadied his breathing. 

He heard the sound of water rushing sharply before a splash of water hit him straight in the face, breaking his focus. Kokichi winced from the impact, before hearing a delighted laugh ringing out. The small boy peeled an eye open as he shook the water from his face to see Rantaro pointing at him as he cackled slightly. 

Kokichi immediately retaliated, sending a wave of water back at Rantaro's face with his palm. Rantaro had his eyes closed in laughter, so he didn't even see it coming. Kokichi sneered wickedly as the tall boy recoiled from the cold splash of water. He let out a yelp before punishing Kokichi with another strike of his own, but the small boy used his sharp reflexes to dodge the burst of water incoming. 

_This means war._

The two danced around each other, sending attacks back and forth. Kokichi was careful to keep weight off his injured foot, which luckily turned out to be a breeze underwater. The two had completely forgotten about how cold the river really was as they adjusted to the temperature. Kokichi skillfully dodged most of the taller boy's attacks, but when he did get hit, it was like a tsunami. Rantaro was exceptionally strong. Likewise, Kokichi's accuracy was no match for Rantaro's large frame to dodge, as he was constantly pelted with the smaller boy's swift strikes. The two began laughing hysterically together as they went back and forth.

Rantaro grew seemingly tired of his attacks being dodged, as he charged his body towards Kokichi. The small boy let out a playful cry of dread as Rantaro tackled him into the water. Kokichi instinctively kicked up his legs, recoiling from pain when he remembered his broken ankle. Apparently, it was still too early to put that kind of strain on it, even underwater. 

Amami gasped as he realized what he had done, and immediately steadied Kokichi to face him. 

"Oh my gosh, I forgot! I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Rantaro exclaimed nervously as he gripped Kokichi's shoulders. The pain in his foot throbbed a little, and the freezing cold water finally seemed to catch up with him. Yet, he felt amazing. 

"It's fine. Sometimes when I'm with you I forget that I'm a disaster too." The words just slipped out, and Ouma felt a little embarrassed by them. Rantaro just blinked at him a few times before his face melted into a sweet smile. 

"You're not a disaster..." Rantaro soothed. 

The sentiment was nice, but Kokichi wholeheartedly disagreed. He moved to wrap his arms around Rantaro's neck a he buried his shameful face. All Kokichi had ever been was a disappointment. To his mother when she was alive, to his father, to his entire family, to his friends, and even to Saihara-chan. He lacked self-control and did things impulsively. He had an extremely loose grip on his emotions, and was mentally unstable at his best. He was pessimistic and suicidal, even though he had so much to live for right in front of him. He was a horrible person, and he was going straight to hell. He knew this. Everyone knew this. 

And yet this beautiful person held him in his arms and told him he was worthy of love. It might be a lie, but it was one he needed to hear. He felt protected in Rantaro's arms, and he pushed away all his problems and self-hatred for just a little while as the tall boy stroked his hair. He felt Rantaro shiver as he let out a breathy laugh and spoke, 

"I'm fucking freezing, wanna get out?" 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

The two boys had been totally reckless. They didn't have any towels or spare clothes. They moaned and groaned with misery as they trudged their way back up to the car, shaking from the cold the whole way up. They blasted the heat in the car as their still-wet hair dripped from their faces. Despite the aftermath, they had had fun. Kokichi decided he wanted one more cigarette before they headed back to campus, which Rantaro reluctantly gave to him. Kokichi swore to the taller boy that it would be his last one, and for once, he did intend to keep his promise. 

Rantaro parked in the back of the dormitories and helped Kokichi out of the car like before. The two of them talked about nothing in particular as they casually made their way back to the dorms' front entrance. 

However, as they rounded the corner to the front of the building, they chuckled lightheartedly at each other's jokes. They hadn't been paying attention until they reached the front entrance, where they were met with an unexpected sight.  

As Kokichi looked up, he saw two familiar faces staring back at them. He stopped his crutches in surprise. 

Kaede and Shuichi stood side-by-side, looking at the two of them with concerned expressions. Kaede donned her usual cheerleader uniform, probably fresh out of practice. Shuichi wore a casual look with a coat and a pink scarf wrapped around his neck. 

"There you guys are! I've been looking for you all da-" Kaede began, but was stopped when she noticed the boys' still-wet hair. "What the heck? Why're you guys wet?" 

Kokichi looked over at Rantaro, who nervously chewed at his lip. He really needs to stop doing that. 

"Uh... long story? Sorry, I should've texted or something..." Rantaro struggled to come up with an excuse, making Kokichi huff lightly. Such an amateur. 

Actually, Kokichi couldn't think of anything either... 

Especially not with Saihara's silent stare piercing into him. He returned the boy's gaze, searching his eyes for an answer. An answer to the question in the back of his mind all damn day. 

_Why did you leave me?_

Saihara seemed to read his mind, as his eyes filled with guilt. However, they suddenly shifted to something much more cold as Saihara's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

"Have you been smoking?" Saihara interrupted the quarreling couple, causing everyone to go silent. Kokichi didn't back down from the detective's invasive questioning. 

"So what if I have, are you my mother?" Kokichi countered maliciously. He felt abandoned by Saihara, yet he kept butting into his business and pretending he cared about him at all. It was starting to piss Ouma off. 

"Ouma-kun, you do know that smoking hinders bone repair, right?" Saihara sounded both concerned and displeased, causing Ouma to roll his eyes. However, he heard Amami let out a small gasp from beside him. Apparently, this was news to the tall boy. Rantaro had given him a break from all the drama and unhappiness of his daily life, he wasn't about to let Saihara make him feel guilty for that. 

"It was just once. Besides, it doesn't affect you, right? You're not the one taking care of me anyways." His statement caused Saihara to back down, putting his hand over his chin thoughtfully. After all, he couldn't argue with him about that statement with Rantaro right there. Besides, it was true. Saihara had given up on him, so what Kokichi did in his spare time was none of his business anymore. The more he thought about it, the more disgruntled he became. He studied the boy with a glare, and then a thought suddenly occurred to him. 

Saihara was wearing a scarf. Kokichi's mind flashed back to how aggressively he had left his love bites on the neck that lay underneath the thick fabric just last night. The hurt from waking up alone caught up with him, and he capriciously decided he wanted Saihara to feel the same hurt. He pointed straight at the scarf around the detective's neck. 

"Anyways, what's this? Don't tell me you're hiding a hickey under there, Saihara-chan! Kaede, you dirty whore!" Kokichi threw the accusation at the detective. Everyone around him seemed to become overcome with shock in unison at his claim. "Is that why you two are so concerned about me and Amami-chan, huh!?" He began to sprout fake tears as he continued to torment the boy. 

Saihara stared at him with fear and betrayal, and Kokichi smiled on the inside. 

"Ouma-kun..." Saihara began in a melancholy tone before being interrupted by the girl beside him. 

"What the hell Kokichi!? Why would you even say that... you know that's not true!" Kaede aggressively stepped towards Kokichi, shooting down his accusation. 

"Oh...?" Kokichi thought aloud, clearing the tears from his eyes instantly. Something was strange about what Kaede just said. In fact, something was strange about this whole situation. Now that Kokichi thought about it, did Saihara even own a pink scarf?

_Ah._

It all clicked into place. Saihara and Akamatsu were best friends after all, so it's natural that they would share  _everything._

"Tell me, Kaede, how exactly do I  _know_ it's not true?" Kokichi challenged her, and she recoiled. Saihara's eyes went wide. 

So he had told her about what happened between them. Kokichi felt a little disgusted by the thought. 

"Jeez, is nothing sacred anymore?" The small boy asked to no one in particular. He gave an exasperated sigh as he began to stagger away from the group, tiring of the conversation. 

"Ouma-kun!" He heard Saihara call out to him. Ouma hesitated for a moment, before he continued on his way. He heard Rantaro mutter something to the other two before he jogged to catch up with Kokichi, holding the door open for him. 

"What was that about...?" Rantaro asked confusedly. Kokichi didn't answer, and Rantaro didn't press the issue. 

He was grateful. 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Kokichi sat silently in his room after Rantaro had dropped him off. He didn't try to draw tonight, as he knew nothing would come out. He thought briefly about the classes he missed, but realized they wouldn't be a problem. Kokichi had skipped many of his classes in high school, and still ended up with the highest test scores in his class. It was all just too easy for him, honestly. Though as he reflected on how he had treated Saihara-chan out of spite earlier, he realized he would trade his natural intellect for the ability to interact like a normal human being any day. 

The guilt finally caught up with him, and yet he was still upset with the detective. He desperately wished he knew what was on the boy's mind. Saihara truly didn't seem like the type who would use people, that's one of the things Kokichi liked so much about the boy. And yet, he had allowed the small boy to do such dirty things to him, only to run off and tell his closest friends about it the next day. 

Kokichi sighed to himself as he flopped down onto his back on Saihara's bed. Or, what used to be his bed. 

"Fuck my life and everyone in it." He complained to the ceiling. He checked his phone, but he had no missed calls or messages. He checked the time, and it was already dark outside. Kokichi didn't have the energy to change his clothes or take a shower. He laid in his dirty clothes stained with the smell of ashes and his improperly dried hair as he drifted away. Rantaro had offered to stay with him, but he had turned him down. He regretted it now, seeing as he was practically incapable of taking care of himself. He felt tears sting the corners of his eyes as he lay in self-pity in the silent room. 

He was startled by a sudden knock at the door. 

He hoped it was Rantaro, coming back to take care of him even though he had sent him away. He grabbed his crutches and hobbled over to the door. He hated to admit that he was starting to get used to the things. 

He shifted his weight onto the crutches as he propped the door open, revealing Saihara's face from the other side. Kokichi stared blankly at the boy, who silently stared back at him. 

Without a word, Kokichi slammed the door shut decidedly. 

He heart a shout ring out from the outside of the door. 

"H-hey! Ouma-kun, open the door! We need to talk!" Saihara cried out from the other side. Ouma rolled his eyes. He was sick of those words. 

"Leave me alone." The small boy replied. Saihara went silent from the other side for a while, until Kokichi figured he had left. He sighed, slightly disappointed. He was mad at Saihara, sure, but he hadn't really wanted him to go. Ouma didn't understand why he always pushed away the people he needed the most. 

As the thought crossed his mind, he suddenly heard the lock jingle before the door creaked open. Kokichi turned his head to face the detective, who stood sheepishly in the door frame with his key in the handle. 

"Please, it's important." Saihara restated, pleading with his eyes. Kokichi gave in and walked over to the detective's bed, sitting down in defeat. Saihara walked into the room before closing the door behind him. 

_Guess this is a private kind of conversation, then._

Saihara surprised him by walking over to his bed and sitting beside Ouma. They were almost close enough for their legs to brush against each other, but not quite. 

"First of all..." Saihara began formally. "About last night..." He trailed off nervously as Ouma braced for impact. 

"I know. You regret it." Ouma guessed, unable to handle the suspense from the way the detective's words lingered. Saihara's eyes flickered up to meet with his, filled with remorse. Ouma felt his heart sink. 

"It's not..." The detective weakly trailed off again, before steeling himself with a sigh. "It's not because of you, Ouma. It's my own fault. I wasn't thinking straight." 

Ouma might've made an obvious joke at the detective's expense if he wasn't currently sinking into a pit of grief. Ouma felt a warm and gentle hand cover his own, and blinked in surprise. 

"I.... That's not what I had come here for last night, and I let myself get carried away. I have something important to tell you." 

Ouma wasn't sure how to feel about the detective's calming words. He was openly admitting that he regrets what had happened last night, yet he didn't seem hostile or disgusted. The small boy only sensed good-natured concern in his voice.

"Why did you leave me?" Ouma heard the words slip from his mouth, sounding desperate and childish. Saihara was taken aback by the small boy's sudden question, and changed his stance to one of apology. 

"That was rude of me... It's just..." Saihara lost his initiative as he squeezed Ouma's hand tightly. "We shouldn't have done that... I wanted to take things slow I guess...?" Saihara circled around the question, seemingly losing his conviction. Ouma sensed a weakness in the taller boy, and decided to take advantage of it. 

"Then why'd you come here tonight...?" Ouma whispered as he leaned closer to Saihara's face. "Could it be that you want to play with me some more?"  Ouma began to run his hands through Saihara's soft hair as the detective blushed. 

"No... Ouma. That's not why I'm here... I've been looking into some things involving your attacker... Shirogane-chan." Saihara managed to speak the words as Ouma crawled into his lap. Ouma stopped, taken aback by the words. "She's a student here at Hope's Peak, admitted upon recognition of her talent as a seamstress and designer."

Ouma bit his lip. So it was true, after all. She was like a ghost, following him around everywhere he went, refusing to let go of the past. 

"Shouldn't she be expelled for attacking me then? How come you and Rantaro haven't reported her?" Ouma questioned as he got comfortable in the detective's lap. Saihara was blushing from the contact, but continued nonetheless. 

"Right... The circumstances are a bit more complicated than that..." Saihara began. "I think it would be best if you heard about it from Amami-kun instead of me." Ouma quirked an eyebrow at the suspicious statement. "What I want you to be aware of is that she is still currently on campus, so you should be careful, okay?" Saihara's concern warmed his heart a bit. He was still so confused about so many things, but one thing he knew was that Saihara was so beautiful. He admired the boy's long eyelashes and elegant features with his hands. Saihara stopped him by gripping his wrists lightly. 

"That's all for now... but I'm working on finding out more..." Saihara seemed distracted as he talked, avoiding Ouma's gaze. "I should go now." Saihara pulled himself together as he spoke. 

Contrary to his words, the detective didn't move an inch underneath Ouma. The small boy recognized the weakness he had sensed earlier for what it truly was.

Desire. 

Ouma broke Saihara's grip on his wrists to capture his instead. Saihara gasped quietly at the act, but failed to put up a fight. Ouma guided Saihara's hands to the small of his back, resting them there gingerly. He heard Saihara's voice shake as he sucked in a breath. If Ouma could use his body once more to stop Saihara from leaving him, he would. Saihara seemed so powerless to his intense stare as the small boy moved the detective's hands down further to rest on his ass. 

"What's wrong?" Ouma whispered to the trembling boy. "I thought you wanted to take it slow, or whatever, yet you let me do as I please." Saihara's gaze faltered, and he looked away ashamedly. Kokichi simply giggled, "It's okay, we all have our vices. Besides," the small boy stirred to rub their growing erections together, eliciting a gasp from the detective. "I don't mind if you use me, my beloved Saihara-chan." Kokichi's voice dipped to a seductively rumble, and Saihara seemed to lose his cool. 

"Ah... Ouma-kun... I'm not using you..." Saihara whimpered as Kokichi continued to grind their lengths together, tightening his grip on the boy. 

He sounded so utterly helpless as he gave in to lust. Ouma wasn't sure if the boy was lying or not, but it would be nice if what he said was true. Ouma didn't bet on it, though. 

Ouma licked along Saihara's lips as they parted for him. He twisted their tongues together passionately as Saihara's hands tightly groped him. He felt like he was melting from the heat, but he suddenly stopped to break their kiss. Saihara gave him a worried look. 

"Saihara-chan, promise me you won't leave in the morning." Ouma whined, surprised by how needy he sounded. Saihara frantically nodded as he pulled Ouma back in to continue their kiss, reclining backwards onto the bed with him. 

As they undid their pants and started touching each other, Ouma wondered if he was going to regret this in the morning. It felt too good to stop now, even though they both knew this wasn't the right thing to do. Saihara was right to want to take things slow, and Ouma knew that, but he just couldn't help himself. They weren't even dating, and Ouma was sure neither of them really even knew how they felt about each other yet. Ouma had given and received sexual favors many times in the past, but Saihara was different. There were feelings Ouma couldn't comprehend leading his actions whenever he was with the detective. He just wanted more of him, in every way. 

Kokichi suddenly came to the realization that this must be what Saihara was feeling too.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA pls dont smoke its not cool! 
> 
> Happy Belated Valentines Day!
> 
> Sorry this update took longer than usual :( Work is kicking my ass lately


	17. The Pretty Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh also if any of you wanna talk to me on tumblr you can find me here:  
> http://vriskabby.tumblr.com/

That night, he and Saihara had fooled around until they got off. It felt great, but it came with an overbearing shame once the climax wore off. As promised, Saihara stayed in bed with him that night, and was still there when he awoke. Ouma had managed to convince Saihara that what they were doing was okay; that they were just blowing off steam. However, the morally upstanding boy had seemed all but mortified by what they had been doing, muttering apologies and excuses.  

Ouma realized he was an idiot when he had forgotten that Amami-chan had promised to come get him every morning until he could walk on his own. Saihara panicked as Ouma shoved him into the bathroom to hide. Amami didn't seem to notice anything unusual, so he figured they were in the clear. 

They had met up later in Criminal Justice, and ended up passing notes to each other throughout the entire class like teenagers. It had been interesting, though. Ouma learned that Saihara hadn't told Kaede the dirty details of their encounter, but rather, she had noticed the marks on his neck and he had explained who they came from. Ouma still wasn't thrilled about it, but Saihara didn't seem to have bad intentions. 

Ouma had tried to convince Saihara to move back in with him, but he assured Ouma it wouldn't be for the best. He was going to be staying over in Kaito's room for the time being. His reasoning was shoddy at best, but Ouma decided to let it go. After all, he now had a secret weapon that he could use against Saihara to pull him back in whenever he wanted. 

And he decided he would do just that. 

After classes, he went to meet up with Rantaro and Kaede, but the girl was nowhere to be found today. Ouma noted that it wasn't a practice day for her, so it was a bit unusual. However, Rantaro smiled like he always did as they went out for dinner. 

Rantaro walked him back to his room as always, opening the door for him. Before saying goodbye, Rantaro hesitated today. 

"Hey, Kokichi..." He began. The small boy turned to face him with interest. "Saihara doesn't room here anymore, right?" 

Kokichi was perplexed by the question. He was pretty sure he had mentioned it to him in passing, but the fact that he was bringing it up now was making Kokichi nervous. His mind flashed back to being curled up next to the detective in this very room last night. 

"That's right, Amami-chan!" 

"Ah.... Then," Amami-chan's expression suddenly darkened, sending a chill down Kokichi's spine. "You haven't been seeing him lately, right?" 

Though Kokichi's heart was pounding in his chest, he kept his expression completely neutral on the outside. Amami-chan was a smart guy, that's why they got along. Even if Kokichi was a masterful liar, he would need to tread carefully here. 

"Hmm? Nope! Why do you ask, my beloved Amami-chan?" Ouma gave his sweetest smile, trying to soften the tense boy up. It seemed to work, as Amami visibly relaxed. 

"Oh, that's good then. I just wanted to make sure, that's all." Amami seemed really hellbent on enforcing Saihara's promise for some reason. Ouma guessed they just didn't get along, but it was a little annoying to be watched over so carefully. Especially when he had things to hide. "How are you faring on your own with your injury? It can't be easy." Amami changed the subject, which Ouma was grateful for. "Y'know, I could stay here with you if you wanted..." Amami offered. 

Normally, Ouma would be thrilled at the suggestion, but when he thought about Saihara-chan he realized it wouldn't be a good idea. Saihara-chan was currently investigating Shirogane, so if he came by the room while Amami-chan was here, it could be chaos. 

"Besides," Amami-chan interrupted his thoughts as he combed his fingers through Kokichi's hair. "Your hair looks a little greasy. You should probably take a bath." 

_Ah. He has a point._

The thought of Saihara coming to see him slipped his mind as Amami-chan let himself in. The small boy didn't want to admit it, but he really did need help taking a bath. 

"Meh. Point taken." Kokichi shrugged as he closed the door. After some practice he found himself able to move around with just one crutch, which made life slightly easier. Amami headed to the bathroom and Kokichi heard the water start running. He was honestly grateful that Amami-chan would go so far to take care of him. The small boy hobbled into the bathroom before abandoning his crutch, taking a seat on the edge of the tub. 

It was super spacious and came with jets, looking more like a hot tub. Amami got up to file around through the cabinets, pulling out a towel and soaps. Ouma became secretly delighted when he saw a bubble bath mix in Amami's hands. Ouma was a pretty mature guy deep down, but who could turn down a nice bubble bath? He giggled as Amami poured the liquid into the tub, bubbles forming as the water rose. 

Amami turned the faucet to shut the water off, before turning to Kokichi expectantly. Kokichi raised a brow before realizing he was still fully clothed. 

_Oh._

Somehow it had slipped Ouma's mind that baths involved getting naked up until now. 

Kokichi started by undoing his scarf as usual, and Amami turned his attention away from the boy. Kokichi felt butterflies in his stomach as he stripped away his shirts and undid his brace. Amami was basically his caretaker at this point, so he shouldn't feel so embarrassed, but he did. All that was left was to remove his pants, he cleared his throat to signal to Amami-chan. 

Amami turned towards him, his eyes giving him a once-over, which threatened to make the small boy blush. 

"Tch. Hurry uppp Amami-chan." He whined to distract himself from the situation. The words kicked Amami into gear as he knelt down in front of the boy. Ouma didn't think he was ever going to get used to Amami unbuttoning his pants for him, his soul threatened to leave his body with every slight brush of his hands against his junk. He cursed himself for being such a pervert. His friend was just trying to help him out, and he was being so depraved. As Amami carefully slid his pants off, he took a deep breath. 

Amami's hands returned to curl around the band of his underwear, and Kokichi almost told him to stop. However, Rantaro looked up at him with a comforting smile, and Kokichi decided to just let it happen. As long as the tall boy didn't stare, he would probably be fine. 

As soon as Rantaro slipped his underwear off his ankles, the small boy immediately whipped around, dipping his feet into the warm water. 

He sunk lower into the tub until his blushing cheeks were hidden underneath the bubbles. 

 

 

-

 

 

After drying off and changing, Kokichi was nearly at his limit. This amount of intimacy and touching was way beyond anything he had ever done with Rantaro before. The worst part was trying to fight off the erection that kept threatening to arise. Struggling to feign innocence, he allowed Rantaro to carry him to his bed while wearing nothing but an over sized T-shirt and a new pair of underwear. Rantaro sat him on the bed and began towel-drying his hair for him. Normally Ouma would revel in being given the royal treatment from the object of his affections, but right now he felt like he was going to burst if he had to hold back any longer. 

"God, Rantaro! I'm not a freakin' baby, I can do that myself." Kokichi impulsively lashed out as he jerked away from his friends touch. Rantaro gave him an irritated look, to which Ouma responded by rolling his eyes. "Don't look at me like that! How am I supposed to get used to this new lifestyle if you constantly do everything for me!?" 

Rantaro sighed. "You're being immature, Kokichi. I'm just trying to help and you know that." 

Kokichi couldn't stand it any longer as he grabbed the towel out of Rantaro's hands before tossing it behind himself. However, the tall boy attempted to chase after the stolen object, accidentally knocking his forehead against the small boys'. They both let out a sharp cry as they tumbled backwards. 

As he felt the tall boy's weight descend onto him, he realized he had a problem. 

He was hard. And Rantaro could totally feel it. 

_Just fucking kill me now._

 Every muscle in Kokichi's body tightened as Rantaro rose himself up by his arms, essentially pinning Kokichi to the bed. He could no longer run away from situations like these because of his fucked up ankle, so all he could do was stare vacantly into Rantaro's concerned eyes. 

"Kokichi..." Rantaro breathed out his name, and Kokichi knew it was game over. Rantaro was never going to look at him the same way now. He didn't know what to say. 

"Do you... want me to help you?" Rantaro implored quietly. Kokichi thought he might've misheard the boy at first. 

"Huh?" Kokichi's breath hitched in his throat. 

"It's... uncomfortable, right? I can help you get rid of it... If you want." 

Rantaro stared unwavering into his eyes, making his mind go blank. Kokichi couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he couldn't believe the words that slipped out of his mouth next. 

"Please..." 

_Thud Thud Thud._

By the grace of God, Kokichi's thoughtless plea was interrupted by a knock on the door. Rantaro jumped at the noise, before clearing his throat and removing himself from Kokichi. 

The small boy fell cold as he realized what was about to happen. Saihara was there, and Rantaro was going to open the door to him. 

It was already too late to panic as Rantaro cracked the door open. Kokichi watched in horror as the door swayed open to reveal... 

Kiibo? 

"O-oh, Amami-kun! I was not expecting to see you here. Is Ouma-kun around?" 

He wanted to scream expletives at the silver-haired boy for scaring the crap out of him like that, but he realized Kiibo had actually been his saving grace. 

"Kiiboy, what the fuck do you want?" Kokichi exclaimed as he straightened himself out and rose to his feet. Err, foot. 

"Hey! I'm just here to invite you out to dinner!" Kiibo explained. "Akamatsu-san says we should all 'hang out more,' so she wanted to get everyone together to go out to eat. If you don't want to come, you do not have to shout at me..." Kiibo sulked as he finished his explanation. 

Rantaro and Kokichi looked at each other curiously. Apparently, the tall boy didn't know about this either. 

"Uh, like, right now?" Kokichi checked the time, it was a little late for a dinner party. 

"We already ate." Rantaro stated factually. Kokichi silently wondered why he seemed so opposed to the idea. Even if they had eaten, he was pretty sure Kaede just wanted to make things less awkward between them all after the past few incidents. 

Kiibo simply shrugged. It seemed he was just the messenger, yet Kokichi still felt the urge to shoot him. 

"Do you even need to eat? I'm pretty sure you're not even a real person." Kokichi teased with a cheeky smile. 

"I am human! I have explained this many times!" Kiibo defended himself as Rantaro chastised the small boy with a look of disapproval. 

"Fine, jeez! You don't have to beg, I'll grace you all with my presence." Kokichi declared smugly as Kiibo frowned. 

"I was definitely  _not_ begging." Kiibo's eyes trailed downwards, causing him to blush. "A-Also, consider putting on pants before we leave." 

Kokichi had forgotten about his lack of coverage. He giggled mischievously, pretending he knew all along. 

As he turned to get dressed, he almost forgot about the abnormal moment he and Amami had shared not even minutes ago. 

Almost. 

 

 

-

 

 

By the time Kokichi realized this situation was a disaster waiting to happen, it was already too late. As the boys pulled up to the local restaurant, they saw three familiar faces waiting near the front entrance. That was when Kokichi understood what he had just walked right into; a trap. 

Kaede, Saihara-chan, and Iruma stood in a group, chattering to each other as the three boys approached them.

This was a date. Not just any date; this was a triple date. Kaede was trying to play matchmaker. Kokichi felt like he should turn tail and run immediately, before realizing the best he could do was limp away at a leisurely pace. His body tensed up when Saihara made eye contact with him. 

The detective looked like he was just as uncomfortable with the situation as he was, quickly turning away from the small boy's gaze. Rantaro seemed annoyed at the sight of Saihara's presence. 

"Hey guys! We were just about to head in!" Kaede exclaimed cheerfully. 

"Why is shrimp dick here? I thought you said this was a date!?" Miu unthinkingly blurted out. Saihara blushed furiously at the statement, while Rantaro crossed his arms in annoyance. 

"Miu!" Kaede exclaimed, before clearing her throat. "Y-you silly girl! She's just joking, hahaha!" Kaede struggled to recover as she pinched Iruma-san's cheeks, roughly urging her to play along. 

"A-augh! You're so... R-rough, Akamatsu!" Miu fell feverish at the girl's punishing touches, and Ouma rolled his eyes at the scene.  

They eventually filed in to the building, some more reluctantly than others. Rantaro stole glances at Kokichi every once in a while as he stood warily close to the small boy's side. When Rantaro wasn't looking, he would try to read Saihara's face for a reaction, but the detective wouldn't even face him. 

As they were seated around the table, Ouma found himself sitting with Rantaro to his left and Saihara directly in front of him. The detective had a much harder time avoiding Ouma's unrelenting stare now, fidgeting as he tried to distract himself by chatting with the girl next to him. 

Ouma found himself growing utterly maddened at the detective's ignorance. After all, they had touched each other's dicks on multiple occasions now but he couldn't even spare a 'Hello?' Ouma bit his lip as he used his good foot to gently tap against Saihara's shoe. Ouma was mostly mature, but he was also down for a round of footsies. 

Saihara stopped talking mid-sentence, casting a surprised look at the small boy. Ouma innocently smiled back. 

"Oh hi there, Saihara-chan! I barely even noticed you were here! How have you been lately?" Ouma asked as if he didn't already know the answer. 

"Uh... I've been fine, I suppose." Saihara nervously responded. 

"The fuck? Aren't you two roommates?" Miu questioned as she listened to their strange exchange. 

"Uh! It's a long story!" Kaede butted in, eager to avoid the touchy subject. "Anyways, what looks good to you guys!? Personally, I'm tempted to try the Filet Mignon!"  

"Hah! Of course Kae-idiot wants thick, juicy meat in her mouth!" Miu teased as Kaede smacked her with her menu. 

"Y-you two! We are in public, keep your voices down..." Kiibo nervously lectured, looking around to scan for staff. 

Amami sat silently as the girls argued with each other, but turned to Kokichi with halfhearted interest. 

"Well?" He prompted. 

"Huh? Uh, I don't know. I'll probably just get the chocolate volcano thing." Ouma pointed to the most extravagant and diabetes-inducing picture on the menu. Amami simply chuckled before turning back to the squabble to try settling everyone down. Ouma was uninterested in their shenanigans, turning his attention to the awkward boy in front of him instead. Ouma lightly tapped their feet together again, watching as the boy physically jumped. Saihara shot him a glare, to which Ouma tilted his head. 

He understood that Saihara was uncomfortable, but why did he seem so mad? When they had spoken last, he seemed hung up on their escapades. He repeated himself as he apologized and looked overcome with shame. Ouma couldn't understand why the boy was so remorseful about what they had done, it was just a little self-indulgence. He wanted Saihara, and Saihara wanted him. Ouma thought to himself that he wouldn't mind making a habit out of Saihara-chan's touch. It could just be their little secret. 

Ouma licked his lips at the thought, letting his prodding foot wander up to stroke Saihara's leg. The taller boy firmly declined his advances, kicking Ouma foot away. Ouma pouted in his menu as their waitress came to take their orders. As Saihara was giving his order to the girl, Ouma decided it would be hilarious to return to caressing his ex-roommate's leg. He let out an involuntary yelp mid-sentence, earning strange looks from everyone. Ouma only smirked. 

His black nails tapped in thought against his lips as he ordered his own food, pretending he knew nothing of the boy's strange outburst. His foot lingered, daring to travel even farther up the boy's leg. Saihara covered his mouth with his hand as he furrowed his brows at Kokichi. As the waitress left, Kaede seemed to notice the boy's discomfort. 

"You okay, Saihara-kun? You're not sick, are you?" 

"N-no! I'm okay, I jus-" Saihara let out a gasp when Kokichi pressed his foot against his crotch. Kokichi dishonestly reacted in shock with everyone else. 

With all eyes on him, Saihara struggled to maintain his composure as Kokichi twisted his heel into the boy's sensitive areas. Kokichi couldn't tell if he was hard because of his shoes, but the blush that covered Saihara's face was ravishing. Saihara abruptly stood, breaking the contact. 

"On second thought, I think I need to use the bathroom. Sorry, please excuse me." 

"Ah! Saihara!" Kaede shouted after him in concern as he whisked himself away to the restroom. Kokichi voraciously wondered what would happen if he followed the detective into the bathroom.

He would need to be subtle, though. 

"I'm with Saihara-chan! It's stuffy as shit in here, I'm gonna step outside for a bit." Kokichi interjected, hastily making his way out before anyone could offer to join him. Ouma was extremely stealthy, but being on crutches would make this a real challenge. As promised, he made his way outside, feeling Rantaro's eyes boring a hole into his back the whole time. 

Once the small boy made it outside, he immediately retraced his steps, making sure that his friends were no longer looking his way. Luckily, there was a large wall partition that made it easy enough to quickly make his way to the men's bathroom without being seen. The small boy used his single crutch to prop the door open, quietly making his way inside. 

He saw Saihara washing his face in the sink, turning to face Ouma in surprise when he walked through the door. Ouma waved naively at the boy, earning a scowl in return. 

"What is your problem?" 

Ouma recoiled from the statement. He hated that question, and he never expected to hear it come out of Saihara's mouth. 

"Hmm... Where should I start?" Ouma tapped his chin in thought, earning an exasperated sigh from the detective. Ouma felt frustration welling in his chest, but tried his best to maintain a playful atmosphere. "What? Don't you sigh at me, Mr. I-Want-Kokichi's-Dick-But-I'm-Gonna-Pretend-I-Don't-So-My-Friends-Don't-Judge-Me!" 

"That's not what this is about, Ouma!" Saihara shouted in response, moving closer to the small boy. As the space between them disappeared, Ouma couldn't help himself as he grabbed Saihara's collar and pulled him down. He crashed their lips together sloppily. "Nnn!" Saihara tried to speak, but his words were devoured by the small boy's lips. Ouma let his crutch fall to the ground, causing Saihara to steady him with his hands. When Ouma tried to press his tongue against Saihara's sealed lips, he felt Saihara's hand grip his jaw. 

He frowned at the detective as he separated their mouths. 

"Ouma, we can't do this..." He stared intensely down at the boy, still tightly gripping his face to keep him under control. 

"It'll be okay. Let's just do it in the stall, that way if someone walks in I can just-" 

"No! That's not what I'm talking about." Saihara interrupted him, frustration washing over his face. "I mean,  _this."_

"Explain." Ouma calmly demanded. 

"After everything we've been through,  _this_ is really what you want from me...?" Saihara's expression softened into sadness, his eyes becoming wet with tears. Ouma thought about his statement, but he couldn't figure it out. It wasn't like the detective to be so cryptic. 

"What do you mean, my beloved Saihara-chan?" Ouma tried to keep his voice low, even though he was seething with frustration. Saihara averted his gaze. 

"I mean... Just what am I to you, Ouma?" The question caused the small boy to jolt. He realized he didn't even know the answer. Maybe he would make one up, then. 

"You're sexy." Ouma joked as he reached out to touch the detective, before Saihara slapped his hands away. The taller boy wiped the wetness away from his eyes, before moving to pass Kokichi. The small boy almost fell over from the sudden lack of support, and cried out. "Hey! What the hell is  _your_ problem, Saihara!?" 

The detective only slammed the door behind him in response, abruptly ending the baffling conversation. 

_Oh hell no._

Ouma wasn't the type to just drop something like this, and Saihara had been an idiot to walk away from him.

He was going to pay now. 

Ouma collected himself and made his way after the detective, refusing to let their argument die. If Saihara wanted to bring this out there, then he would grant his wish generously. 

As he approached their table once more, he spotted Saihara sitting calmly, as if nothing had even happened. Ouma grit his teeth and made his way over to sit across from Saihara once more. As he approached, Kaede seemed to notice the direction he came from wasn't outside. She nervously played with her hair as he made himself comfortable. Ouma smiled pleasantly at everyone before sharply slamming his palms onto the table, rising to his feet. The plates and silverware clattered as everyone went silent and stared at the small boy. 

"So, Saihara-chan, as I was saying..." 

"Ouma!" Kaede interjected. Ouma scornfully glared at her.

"Shut up, Kaede. You're the one who wanted this little get-together, right?" Ouma's voice was full of hostility. The girl flinched from the enmity radiating from the small boy. "You think you're so perfect and sweet that you can fix any situation with a little bit of your sickening optimism and some worthless hope, but I'm about to show you reality." 

"Kokichi, what are you talking about...?" Rantaro shifted to shoot the boy a warning look, as the staff started to whisper amongst themselves. Ouma felt a rush of bravery as he abandoned all his inhibitions. 

"Simple. I'm talking about the fact that Kaede knows Saihara-chan and I have been messing around, and she's trying to get us together so she doesn't have to worry about me wanting to bang you anymore!" 

Saihara stood sharply from his seat, looking at Ouma in complete horror. Ouma could only feel disdain as all the acting and pretense was shattered, forcing everyone around him to face the truth. They all hated it so much when he lied to them, but they hated it the most when he told the truth. 

"... _What?"_ Amami's tone dipped to a growl as he looked back and forth between Kaede and Saihara. 

"Holy shit, dude." Miu chimed in with shock. Kiibo gulped down his water as he avoided the confrontation like the plague. 

"Ouma... Why would you say something like that!?" Kaede cried out as the two boys stood facing each other. Saihara's horrified expression mixed with rage. He shook his head slightly. 

"She was right about you, Ouma-kun." 

_She?_

Saihara continued, "You only know how to use people for your own sick pleasure. I knew I should've never trusted you..." 

Ouma felt a sharp pain in his chest, but smothered it behind a shit-eating grin. 

Rantaro abruptly stood at the detective's words with rage in his eyes. 

"Rantaro, don't!" Kaede warned, using her body to block Rantaro's reach to Saihara. 

"Please, there is no need for violence!" Kiibo attempted to help Kaede diffuse the situation, but it was no use. 

The detective looked utterly apathetic to the threat, keeping his glare glued to Ouma. 

"There's..." Saihara began softly, before raising his voice firmly. "There's something seriously wrong with your head, Ouma. You're a monster. When I first met you, you told me you were evil, but only now do I see that you were telling the truth." 

Ouma felt something shatter inside him at Saihara's words. Maybe it was because they were true, or maybe because they came from the boy he might've loved, but he suddenly felt like he would be better off dead. 

Maybe Rantaro should've never found him on that day after all. 

Ouma heard his heart beating throughout his entire body as a numbness swallowed him. His face had lost it's malicious grin, and faded into an unreadable glare as the detective's words sunk into his mind like daggers. He laughed weakly.

"Yeah, you're absolutely right." He admitted softly. "Congrats, Saihara-chan! You got what you wanted; you finally figured me out." He forced a smile and clapped his hands together. It was the only noise in the dead silent restaurant now.  

The detective shook his head, fighting off tears as he turned and ran out the door. 

The numbness blurred his vision as he watched Saihara disappear once again. His heart felt null and void as he cracked a smile, laughter spilling from his lips. 

He knew there was no going back now. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im gonna be honest, this chapter was hell for me to write. I'm thinking maybe i've been stressing myself out a bit too much over this fic, even though it's like my baby atm. I'm certainly not going to abandon it, but I feel like it's sorta consuming my mind right now? 
> 
> Like, looking at the word count, I've literally written a book. That blows my mind. 
> 
> So yeah long story short I've been really in my own head lately. I've been having little panic attacks and really beating myself up about stupid things :/ Honestly I think I may need to just.... slow down a bit?  
> Not too terribly much, but I apologize if my updates are noticeably later than usual.  
> Basically, I'm an insecure potato. Whoops. 
> 
> Seriously though, your comments and kudos are what definitely make it all worth it. Thank you guys so much for the support, it really keeps me going Q-Q


	18. The Ugly Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank to all of you who came and followed/talked to a loser like me on tumblr, heheh. I really enjoy interacting with you guys so please feel free to keep doing so. Tell me about your day, yell at me for making you cry, I love it all you guys are great <3
> 
> Also this chapter isn't proofread yet, will do later =P

 

Saihara stared down at his notebook as he chewed on his pen, deep in thought. He stared down at the passage he had written almost five minutes ago with uncertainty. 

_ 11/6/201X  _

_ Ouma Kokichi continues to puzzle me. I've found myself falling victim _

_ to his advances several times, now.  _

_ I'm scared that we will never become friends if things continue down this path... _

_ To top it all off, I still don't know the first thing about him.  _

_ -Where he comes from _

_ -What he wants from me _

_ -What his goals are _

_ -What he has been through  _

_ These are all such basic questions, and yet I don't have an answer for any of them. It's been months now. _

_ I feel like a failure of a detective. _

_ Conclusion:  _

_Maybe I've been looking at things_ _from the wrong perspective?_

_ I need to change my approach. I've been so busy trying to  _

_ figure out what goes on in Ouma's head that I've forgotten about my own feelings... _

_ To me, Kokichi Ouma is  _

He clicked his teeth onto the pen as he stared at his incomplete sentence. The detective had been wracking his brain for a few hellish minutes trying to figure out what word would best complete it. He felt his palms start to sweat as his heart rate increased. This should be simple, but it isn't. It was frustrating. 

"Yo, dude. I'm pretty sure if you keep writing in your diary all night you're gonna miss your date..." 

Saihara jolted at his friends voice. He looked up to see Kaito roughly towel-drying his hair as he stepped out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but another towel around his waist. 

Saihara ignored the words 'diary' and 'date' to check the time. Kaito was right, he was going to be late if he didn't wrap it up soon. He sighed in defeat as he closed the notebook. He would have to find his answer later, it seemed. 

Kaede had invited him and a few other friends out to dinner tonight; including Ouma. Saihara felt anxious at the thought of facing the small boy again. Ever since their escapades started, all Saihara has been able to think about is Ouma between his legs.

The detective shuddered from the erotic thought, a slight blush rising on his cheeks. He really needed to focus. 

“Are you sure you and Harukawa-chan don’t want to come along?” He asked his friend to distract himself from his thoughts. 

“Nah, man. Maki has been really on edge lately and I don’t think she would be very happy to see that little shit.” Kaito ranted. Saihara kept a straight face as he listened. Kaito and Maki had a distinctive loathing of the small boy. Saihara worried what they might think if they found out what he and Ouma had done together. He would never be able to justify it, either. 

“Right… Well, I’ll be off then.” Saihara collected his things before heading towards the door. 

“See ya dude!” Kaito shouted after him as he closed the door behind him. 

The detective pulled out his phone to check the time. If he hurried, he could stop by  _ that place _ one more time before heading to the restaurant.

The thought made him uncomfortable, but he knew it was the right thing to do. 

He rushed down the hall to make his way towards the girl’s wing. As he entered the hall, he scanned around for any familiar faces. He certainly didn’t want anyone to see him here. Once the coast was clear, he approached the room he sought after. He lightly tapped against the door, straightening himself out. The door simply opened quietly, and the detective slipped inside quickly. 

“Hello. How nice to see you again, Saihara-kun.” 

The detective entered a room that was filled to the brim with posters and figurines hanging from every wall and edge. It was well kempt but cluttered, littered with tons of characters that Saihara didn’t recognize from various anime and manga. He turned his attention to the girl’s voice. 

She still looked like she was in bad shape. She had bruises covering her face and body, growing lighter colors every day. Cuts littered her skin as well as bandages to try concealing them. Saihara winced every time he laid eyes on the girl, never quite getting used to the sight. 

“H-Hello, Shirogane-chan.” The girl smiled cheerfully back at his greeting as if nothing was unusual about the situation at all. They were certainly not friends, but the girl acted so pleased to see him every time he came by. 

On the night he had taken Ouma to the hospital, he returned to the scene of the crime hours later. He dug back through the wooded area to find the girl still lying unconscious on the ground. He felt horrible about what had happened to her, and decided to take responsibility. Even if she had hurt Ouma-kun in such a horrible way, she didn’t deserve to die. 

Saihara was of the mindset that nobody deserves to die, especially not at the hands of another human being. No matter how despicable they were. 

He had stayed by the girl’s side until she woke up hours later. She was extremely dazed and had no recollection of how she had gotten there. At least, that’s what she claimed. Saihara had snuck her back to her room where he dressed her wounds with a first aid kit. He couldn’t risk taking her to the hospital, lest she remember who had assaulted her. Ouma-kun might never forgive him if he got Amami-kun arrested. 

Saihara wondered why he was letting his feelings for the boy prevent him from doing the right thing. He thought to himself once again that Ouma was surely a bad influence. 

Regardless, he had been coming here the past few days to check in on the girl. He brought her food and homework from her classes, doing everything to prevent her condition from being discovered. She was lucky enough to have landed herself in a single dorm room, having no roommate. 

Looking at the mild-mannered girl in front of him, it was hard to believe she had done such awful things to Ouma. Saihara had to keep reminding himself that she was not trustworthy, no matter how bad he felt for the girl. 

“So what bring you here today? Have you come to interview me some more? Gosh, I feel like a famous voice actress whenever you stop by!” The girl rambled on to herself. 

“I just wanted to check in, but I wouldn’t mind if you actually answered some of my previous questions while I’m here.” 

He had been questioning the girl nonstop to try to find information on her and her relationship with Ouma and Amami. However, she was quite tight-lipped about the whole situation, much to Saihara’s chagrin. The girl was going to live now, so all he really wanted from her was an explanation. 

“For example,” He began. “Why did you stalk and attack Ouma Kokichi?” His tone was unnecessarily accusatory, but he had evidence to believe it was true. 

“I already told you I don’t know anything about that, silly!” She responded. Saihara let out a breath of frustration. 

“You’re as secretive as Ouma-kun, I guess…” Saihara spoke his thoughts aloud. He heard the girl’s tone shift as she retorted. 

“I’m nothing like that little cretin!” She cried out, before clearing her throat and brushing the statement off. Saihara’s eyebrow quirked in response to her outburst. It seems she had very passionate feelings towards Ouma. 

“Why do you hate him so much? What did he do wrong?” Saihara decided to take advantage of her heated state to try getting information. 

She snorted. “Oh, nothing! He’s a perfect little angel!” 

“You’re also a liar like Ouma-kun, I see.” He tried repeating his previous push, as it had seemed to almost yield results. The girl fidgeted in response, clearing fighting the words that wanted to escape from her mouth. It seemed she wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. “Ah, well, I’ve wasted too much time here. I have to go meet up with some friends. Just don’t forget…” He began. “If you ever lay a hand on Ouma-kun again, I won’t stop Amami-kun from trying to kill you.” He warned. He had helped the girl out of a tight spot, but he didn’t want her to mistake them for friends. He had trouble even looking at her knowing she was the one responsible for the small boy’s injuries. He turned to open the door, before Shirogane called after him. 

“Wait!” She cried. Saihara attentively turned back to her, waiting for her words. “Why are  _ you  _ so protective of him now, too? God, Don’t tell me you’re falling for him too…” 

Her words perplexed the detective. 

“What do you mean, ‘too?’” He questioned. 

“Oh? You don’t know?” She innocently smiled at him before continuing. “Ouma-kun is in love with Rantaro. He always has been.” 

“Huh?” The detective was shaken by her words. Saihara had his suspicions, but now Shirogane was confirming them. 

“What, you didn’t honestly think he had feeling for  _ you,  _ did you?” She persisted as Saihara felt her words sting his heart. “I have news for you, sweet, innocent Saihara-kun; Ouma is a pathological liar. He uses people, abuses them, lies to them, and then throws them away like garbage. That’s what he’s always done, and will always continue to do! Do you know how many people he’s screwed in the past? You didn’t think you were  _ special _ did you?” The look in her eyes grew hazy as she continued her impassioned speech. Her words caused a revolting churning in the pit of his stomach. “He’s sick in the head, Saihara-kun. If you know what’s best for you, you should stay away from him.” 

Saihara stood in shock as she finished her rant. So many things swirled in his head he thought he would be dizzy. He didn’t know much about Ouma or his past, but this girl seemed to know a lot. Yet, he didn’t trust a word she said. Ouma did bad things, but the detective couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t a bad person. He felt the need to defend Ouma rising. He wanted to tell her off. Tell her that Ouma has a heart; he knows, because he’s seen it. 

Instead, he clenched his fist as he turned to walk out the door once more. This time, he vowed to never come back. 

  
  


-

  
  


After the explosive confrontation at the restaurant, Saihara sat numb on Kaito’s bed in an empty, dark room. He had come back to see his friend snoring loudly from the bed he made himself on the floor.  

_ "There's something seriously wrong with your head, Ouma. You're a monster. When I first met you, you told me you were evil, but only now do I see that you were telling the truth."  _

The words circled around in his head. He would never forget the look on the small boy’s face when he spoke them. The small boy’s mask seemed to shatter, revealing someone who was weak and defenseless. His eyes told Saihara all he needed to know about the boy; he was afraid. 

In that moment, Saihara had been too heated to feel any sympathy for the lying boy, simply turning to walk away. He had been so devastated when Ouma had just blurted out in front of everyone what they had done together. It was humiliating. Saihara wasn’t the type who would just casually fool around with someone else with no meaning behind it, but now everyone thought he was. 

Although, when he faced the facts, it was hard to deny that that’s how the situation seemed. He had lost himself in Ouma’s deep, pleading eyes, unable to hold back any longer. He had never felt such a strong attraction to someone before, Ouma was utterly irresistible to him. From his lithe body to his soft face, his enthralling personality and mysterious aura; Saihara was completely under his spell. He felt so weak as tears welled up in his eyes. 

He pulled his knees up to his chest to hug them as the wetness spilled over and rolled down his cheeks. Why did things turn out this way? If only Saihara had found the strength to say no, he and Ouma might’ve still been friends. The second he had given in to his desires, he had destroyed any chance of learning the truth about the boy. Ouma only saw him as a toy now, and he had brought it upon himself. Even though it was all his fault, he had still lashed out at Ouma for it. The things he had said were horrible, and he knew that he could never take them back now. He hiccuped as he wept into himself, before he heard his friend stop snoring. 

Kaito stood up in alarm at the sound of Saihara’s sobbing, immediately taking action. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Dude, what’s wrong?” Saihara felt a concerned hand lightly tapping his shoulder. He jolted as he faced his friend with his soaked cheeks and puffy eyes. Saihara sniffled and wiped the tears from his eyes. 

“I’m sorry…” He croaked out. 

“What happened!?” Kaito exclaimed in a hushed whisper to prevent his roommate from waking up. 

“A lot… A lot happened, I just…” Saihara inhaled sharply. He decided that if everyone else knew about him and Ouma, his best friend might as well know too. However, the words that came out of his mouth were not the ones he was expecting. 

“I think I love Ouma…” He whispered quietly in between his tears. 

The words were foreign to him. He was just as shocked by what he had said as Kaito now was. The taller boy’s mouth hung apage, his eyes wide with surprise. Saihara was wallowing in sorrow, now joined by awkwardness. He couldn’t believe he just said that out loud. 

The thought had been weighing on his mind for a long time now, but setting the words free like that had been completely unexpected. It felt…  _ right.  _

The words rang true in his head, and he finally realized his feelings. He loved the boy he knew nothing about except that he gave him butterflies whenever he smiled. He knew that he felt something every time they touched, and now he knew that ‘something’  was love. He had fallen completely and totally in love with his roommate, and there was nothing that could undo that now. 

“Um… like...okay, wow.” Kaito cleared his throat and did his best to act sympathetic. “That’s… unexpected. Are you sure?” 

Saihara laughed at the question. It’s only natural that he would be taken aback by the confession. Kokichi Ouma was a liar. He went around claiming he was going to become a supreme leader one day. He teased and bullied his own friends. He was terrible at expressing his emotions and hid behind a mask made of lies. He told everyone that he was a bad person, and he acted the part too. Yet, even with all his faults, Saihara loved him. He repeated the words in his head, growing more confident with the meaning each time. He looked his friend in the eyes. 

“Yes, I am sure. I love him.” He said with conviction. Kaito thoughtfully put a hand to his chin, raising an eyebrow before shrugging. 

“Hey man, whatever floats your boat, I guess. But hey, why’re you crying?” 

Saihara trembled as the tears returned to his eyes. It didn’t do him much good to realize his feelings for the boy now, after he had destroyed their bond with his harsh words. 

“I… messed up. I said some horrible things to him. I don’t know if I even have a chance anymore…” Saihara explained shakily as the tears slipped down his cheeks. He had every right to be mad at Ouma for his actions, but he recognized that he had gone much too far in response. Ouma wasn’t a monster, he was a human being with a feelings and emotions; just like him. 

Kaito made a noise of thought before striking a confident pose, hands on his hips. “I don’t really understand, but I believe in your decision, Shuuichi! And I know that whatever you did, you can make it right if you just do your best!” Kaito’s blind optimism never failed to bring a smile to his face.  

“Thank you, Kaito. I’m gonna do my best to make it right…” Saihara smiled through his tears. 

“That’s my sidekick! Now, get some rest. There’s probably not much you can do about whatever happened at late o’clock at night.” Kaito gently rustled his hair, earning another laugh from the detective. 

His friend was right. He needed to sleep this night away for now. As soon as he woke up, a new day would begin, and he could make everything right again. With so much on his mind, he let his head hit the pillow as he wiped away the tears. He fell asleep thinking about the small boy, heart filled with remorse. 

More than anything, he just wished he could take back those words.

  
  


-

  
  


The next day, Kokichi was absent from class. Saihara figured as much would happen, but it was still disheartening. 

After classes, he found Kaede waiting for him outside his building. 

“Oh, Akamatsu-chan. Hey…” He greeted her with a depressed tone, remembering what had happened last night. She returned the sentiment with a melancholy smile. “I’m guessing you’re here to talk about…” He trailed off nervously, unsure where to go with his words. 

“About the shitstorm that was last night? Yeah, pretty much.”  

He chuckled. “I guess that about sums it up, yeah.” 

The mood instantly lightened as the two let out a good laugh. Saihara was grateful to have such caring and understanding friends. 

The two of them began walking as they engaged in small talk, before Kaede finally decided to bring up the dreaded topic. 

“Hey, so, about last night…” She began, Shuuichi braced himself. “I’m really sorry… Ouma was right, I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

“Don't apologize, Akamatsu-san! I’m the one who let things get to that point…” 

The two awkwardly played tug-of-war with the blame until Kaede stopped in her tracks. 

“I think Rantaro is going to break up with me…” She looked at her feet as she spoke, and the words shocked the detective. 

“W-what…?” 

“I really screwed up. I should’ve known better, knowing Ouma-kun’s history…” Kaede explained. Saihara was intrigued by her statement, but still felt apprehension swelling in his stomach as she spoke. “I did try to set you two up… I’ll admit it. And, y’know what? It’s exactly like Ouma-kun said. It’s because I was jealous. I thought maybe everyone’s problems would be solved if Ouma fell in love with you instead, but I forgot that people’s hearts aren’t so easy to understand.” 

Saihara swallowed hard, unsure how to proceed. Kaede was bravely admitting all of her faults, and he didn’t really know how to respond. He noticed the girl’s eyes watering slightly, and decided to pull his old friend in for a hug. Of course, that only made her start to cry. He rubbed her back as she sobbed into his shoulder. Her words gave him a lot of questions, but right now, he just wanted to be there for his friend. 

“It’s okay, Akamatsu-san. You have a good heart, and everyone knows that.” 

He felt her back trembling from her tears, and her sadness seeped into his own heart. 

“Even if you hadn’t tried to make Kokichi fall in love with me, you couldn’t have stopped me from falling in love with him, after all…” He admitted dejectedly. Kaede gasped and looked up at the boy, tears streaming from her face. 

“You…?” She uttered. 

Saihara simply smiled back at her gently. “Yeah…” 

Her face contorted once more into an ugly sob. “I’m so sorry… It’s all my fault…” Saihara panicked at her response, quick to reassure her. 

“No! That’s not what I was saying! It’s my own fault that fight happened… I was a total dick to Ouma-kun, after all. I was just… so  _ confused  _ about what we were. I thought he might just be using me. I let other people get into my head and convince me that Ouma only wanted to hurt me. But, whenever we were together, I never felt that way at all… “ 

As he explained his feelings aloud, Kaede’s sobs quieted. She sniffled into his shirt before chuffing softly. 

“Guess we both kinda screwed up our love lives, then.” 

Saihara sighed deeply at her words. 

“It’s not too late for you, y’know.” She advised optimistically. She spoke as if it  _ was  _ too late for her, earning a concerned look from the detective.

“I won’t lie to you, Shuuichi. Back in high school, I heard a lot of things about Ouma-kun. Bad things. I’m not trying to gossip… After all, they were only rumors, and I didn’t really believe them.” Her words caused Shuuichi to think of his conversation with Shirogane yesterday, bringing back the unwelcome feeling of apprehension. “However, after hearing your feelings I think you should make up with him. He isn’t the best guy, but he isn’t a bad guy either. That’s what I believe.” As she spoke, her confidence gradually increased, and she unfurled herself from her spot in Shuuichi’s arms. “I also believe that people can change.” 

_ People can change…  _

The two smiled optimistically at each other. She was right. Ouma’s past shouldn’t matter, because it was over and done with now. Shuuichi was so hung up on learning the boy’s secrets that he had forgotten what was most important to him; the boy standing right in front of him, here in the present. 

“I’ll apologize to him.” Shuuichi stated with confidence. “And then, when he forgives me, I’ll confess to him.” He stated with slightly less confidence, a small blush on his face.

Kaede gave him a heartfelt nod of encourage, ushering him off. 

  
  


-

  
  


The detective had thought long and hard about what to do to make up with the boy he loved. In the end, he decided on a trip to the gas station near campus to pick up a 2 liter bottle of the boy’s favorite; Grape Panta. 

It wasn’t much, but he knew the boy would appreciate it. His palms were sweating as he walked the familiar path back to his old dorm room. He tried to plan out his speech in his mind, but he kept forgetting his lines. He decided it would be best to just speak from the heart in the moment. 

The plastic bag containing his present swung lightly in his hand as he came to a stop in front of the door. Saihara just stared at the door for a while, before swallowing his pride and giving two firm knocks. 

This was a lot less nerve-wracking in his imagination. He felt stiff as he waited patiently for a response. Ouma was still on crutches, so it might take him longer to open the door. He sucked on his bottom lip as he waited, but he realized Ouma was taking an awfully long time. 

Maybe the boy knew it was him, and refused to answer? 

“...Ouma-kun… open up, please.” Saihara mumbled loudly enough for the small boy to hear him through the door. 

No answer. 

Saihara sighed, he figured pleasing Ouma was going to be difficult, but he wasn’t expecting the silent treatment. 

Saihara rummaged through his pocket with his free hand, pulling out his key. 

“I’m coming in, Ouma-kun.” He warned. No response. 

The detective turned the key and opened the door. When he entered the room expecting to find the small boy, he was shocked by the emptiness. Saihara glanced at the clock. It was nighttime, Ouma was almost always back at the room by now. He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door. When he heard no response, he fell anxious. His mind immediately turned to Shirogane-chan. She couldn’t have…? 

Saihara felt panicked as he sprinted out of the dorm, shutting and locking the door behind him. As soon as he whipped around to make his way towards the girl’s dorm, he ran into a familiar face. 

“Oh, h-hello.” Kiibo awkwardly greeted the detective before immediately recognising the distress on his face. “Saihara-kun! Is everything okay?” 

“Kiibo!” Saihara felt a rush of relief at the silver-haired boy’s appearance, jogging up to him. “Have you seen Ouma-kun?” He asked in a rush. 

“O-Ouma!? N-no, I haven’t.” Kiibo blushed furiously, reminding Saihara that Kiibo had been present at the disastrous dinner. 

“D-Don’t look at me like that, I’m just trying to talk with him!” Saihara insisted as the flushed boy winced. 

“Y-yes, sir!” Kiibo hid his face in the collar of his jacket as he fiddled with his hands. Saihara realized Kiibo might not be any help in this situation, and began to make his way around him. 

“Wait!” Kiibo called after him, stopping the detective. “...Have you checked Amami-kun’s room by chance?” Kiibo asked nervously. 

“Amami-kun’s room…?” 

“Y-yes… See, the two of them left the restaurant together last night and no one has seen them since. That’s actually why I was coming to check on him. Seems he’s still not back…” 

The words somehow struck more fear into Saihara’s heart than not knowing where he was at all. Amami-kun was bound to be furious after learning the truth last night, and the fact that no one has heard from Kokichi since they disappeared together made his stomach churn. He knew better than anyone what Rantaro was capable of. 

Saihara immediately changed directions, heading downstairs as Kiibo shouted after him. He had a vague idea of where Amami roomed as he skittered around the corner of the staircase. As he entered the floor Amami-kun was on, he worried that he would have trouble finding his room. 

Apparently, that wouldn’t be an issue. 

In the distance, he saw the boy he was looking for. He stood in front of what he assumed was Amami-kun’s room. He leaned with his back against the door. Amami-kun was there too, too close to Kokichi. 

Much too close. 

He felt the plastic bag slip out of his hand and hit the ground as he helplessly watched Amami bring the small boy’s lips to his. 

The detective tried to blink away the image, but it was real. 

He felt chills creep down his spine he watched in revulsion. The taller boy twisted the handle behind Ouma, disappearing as they stumbled into the room together. 

Shuuichi’s stomach twisted into knots as he felt his chest heat up with an all-consuming feeling. It was pure anguish, a feeling Saihara had never once felt in his life. He would rather feel the pain of having broken his arm again back in primary school. He felt his knees give out as he fell hopelessly to the floor. 

This feeling was heartbreak. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry pls forgive
> 
> in all seriousness, im so pumped to write next chapter because the scene in it is actually the one (1) scene that inspired this entire fic. To honor that, I'll be naming the chapter after the fic itself... Feels crazy to finally be there, thanks for coming on this crazy journey with me~ (but dont worry, this fic still has a long way before the ending)


	19. Bad Intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More amazing fanart for this fic was drawn, and I feel so blessed 
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BfcPPDVjHFR/?taken-by=saihara_draws
> 
> Thank you all so much for the support~! 
> 
> Warning: NSFW below

"Simple. I'm talking about the fact that Kaede knows Saihara-chan and I have been messing around, and she's trying to get us together so she doesn't have to worry about me wanting to bang you anymore!"

The words took a few moments for Amami to process. He saw Saihara jump out of his seat with his mouth agape and it all made sense.

“... _What?”_

If what Kokichi was saying was true, then Kaede had not only known that the two were seeing each other behind his back, she had _encouraged_ it. He expected this sort of thing from Kokichi, but he thought he could trust Kaede. He even thought he might be able to trust Saihara. The argument at the table continued, the crowded restaurant growing silent as all eyes fell on them, but Rantaro didn’t care. Kokichi’s words just swirled around in his head. He tried desperately not to picture whatever ‘messing around’ entailed.

_Why?_

He caught himself lamenting over the thought until Saihara’s words triggered a reaction from him.

"You only know how to use people for your own sick pleasure. I knew I should've never trusted you..."

Was he talking to Kokichi like that? Rantaro protectively jumped out of his own seat, hands instinctively reaching out to grab the detective before he was stopped by Kaede. He felt his rage burning throughout his entire body, trembling lightly. These two… were just going to keep getting in his way.

"There's..." Saihara began softly, before raising his voice firmly. "There's something seriously wrong with your head, Ouma. You're a monster. When I first met you, you told me you were evil, but only now do I see that you were telling the truth."

Rantaro himself even winced at the sharp words.

"Yeah, you're absolutely right." He admitted softly. "Congrats, Saihara-chan! You got what you wanted; you finally figured me out." He began to clap lightly as he grinned. Rantaro couldn’t understand what was going on inside his head until he started laughing. Laughter was one of Kokichi’s responses to grief. He had seen it many times in the past.

Saihara had hurt Kokichi. He knew this would happen. This always happened when Kokichi got involved with someone else. No one else could be trusted to handle Kokichi’s heart, that’s why he was trying to protect him. It was too late now.

A waitress timidly approached the table, Kokichi still giggling maniacally to himself.

“Excuse me, but we’re getting complaints from the other guests… I’m afraid we have to ask you to leave…”

Rantaro had had enough, he slammed his palms on the table as he removed himself from his chair. As much as he felt sorry for Kokichi, he was just as guilty as everyone else.

Rantaro had never felt so lied to. How could they all just sit around the table and pretend everything was ok? How could they even look him in the eyes, knowing what they knew? Pain seared in his chest as he swiftly made his way outside, heading to his car. He heard feet lightly pattering after him, and he immediately knew Kaede was following him.    

“What do you want, Kaede?” He snipped at her, turning to face the girl.

She slowed to a stop in front of him, bending over to catch her breath.

She inhaled sharply. “Rantaro! Wait… Please, just listen to what I have to sa-”

“I don’t care to hear anything you have to say right now. In fact, I can hardly stand looking at you.”

The girl recoiled from the statement, he continued his relentless attack.

“I thought… you were different, y’know? But you’re not, you’re just like everyone else.”

“What the hell are you talking about!?” She retorted, stepping closer to the tall boy.

“I’m talking about Kokichi!” He shouted back at the girl. “Why would you try to set him up with Saihara? You know how I feel about that!”

Kaede shook her head lightly before sighing, eyebrows tightly knit together. “I know that you’re jealous…”

Her tone was melancholy, yet accusatory. The word ‘jealous’ didn’t sit right with Rantaro. He rolled his eyes in response to her accusation, unable to think of a retort. “Whatever. I thought you accepted my relationship with Kokichi.”

Kaede balled her hands into fists before losing her composure.

“Your… _relationship_ with Ouma…. Is. Not. NORMAL!”

Her words cut through the empty parking lot bitterly, followed by outright silence.

For a moment, all Rantaro could hear was his own heartbeat. He could feel it too, pulsing through his entire body as he stared at the shaken girl.

“You…” He muttered. “You take that back.” His voice shook and his lips trembled. He had never heard himself sound so weak before.

Kaede weakly shook her head.

“No, Rantaro. It’s time to stop lying to yourself…” She composed herself as she continued.

Rantaro saw the others approaching from behind, Kiibo helping the limping boy along. He was no longer laughing, his face was void of expression. The small boy wouldn’t meet his eyes as they approached. Kaede hadn’t seemed to notice them coming from behind her as she continued her lecture.

“I need you to be honest… for us.” Kaede bit her lip, hesitating slightly. “If you… have feelings for Ou-”

“Shut up!” The tall boy exclaimed in a panic. The others were within earshot now, startled by his outburst. Even Kokichi’s eyes widened at his erratic behavior. “Just, shut up, Kaede!” The baffled girl followed his line of sight behind her, turning to face the others.

“Guys! Sorry… Um, can you give us a moment…?” Kaede sweetly requested, but Rantaro was desperate to escape from this conversation. He didn’t want to be given a moment. He didn’t want to spend another moment in this place at all.

“No, forget it.” Rantaro chimed in, earning a concerned look from the girl. “We have nothing more to talk about… I think we should take a break, Kaede.”

Everyone around him seemed to shoot him a look of alarm at the statement. Mouths hung agape and eyebrows furrowed at him, but he was unable to bring himself to care.

“Rantaro…” Kaede pleaded, tears forming in her eyes. Rantaro felt sick with regret when he looked at her. Not for having made her cry, but for ever having thought she was the one. The one he could see himself with for the rest of his life. She had proved him wrong tonight, and he was prepared to walk away and never look back.

True to his thoughts, he whipped around and began walking away from the stunned group without a word. Pulling out his keys, he unlocked the door to his car.

“Rantaro!”

The use of his first name would normally be attached to Kaede’s voice, but the voice that called after him was distinctly Kokichi’s. Rantaro stopped dead in his tracks and turned towards the small boy.

The small boy made his way over to catch up with Rantaro, keeping his face straight as he ordered.

“Take me with you.”

Rantaro bit the inside of his cheek as he glowered down at the boy. Kokichi’s eyes refused to falter as he stared back at him expectantly. He wanted desperately to find the strength to say no. Kokichi had betrayed his trust and lied to him again, yet the tall boy couldn’t imagine a life without him. He couldn’t bare to turn away from those eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, Kokichi was hurting too, and he knew that. He couldn't abandon him.  

“...Get in.”

 

 

-

 

 

The ride home was quiet.

The walk to the dorm room was quiet.

The two boys didn’t look at or speak to one another the entire time.

Rantaro had nothing to say to Kokichi right now. He felt sick in his presence. He wanted to question the boy, but at the same time he didn’t want to know a thing about whatever had gone on between him and Saihara.

Kaede had been right to say he was jealous, as much as he hated to admit it.

Was it normal to become jealous of your best friend’s lovers? Kaede sure didn’t seem to think so.

The thought reminded him of what he had done earlier. His father was going to kill him for breaking things off with Kaede. He felt the impact of his father’s fist connecting with his stomach again, and winced internally.

Kokichi set down his crutch as they entered the empty room, turning to face Rantaro. He broke the silence with a small voice.

“Fun night, huh?”

Rantaro snapped out of his thoughts to face the small boy. He stared at Kokichi blankly, searching for an answer in his eyes. He wanted to ask why, but he wasn’t even sure if it was his place.

Suddenly, Kokichi lurched backwards, falling onto the bed with a flop. As he lay on the bed just in front of him, Rantaro felt paralyzed. Kokichi was just going to pretend everything was fine, and he would never get answers. Rantaro bit his lip as he decided he couldn’t take it any longer.

He made his way over to the boy lying on the bed, leaning over him to grab his wrists. Kokichi’s resting eyes shot open, immediately trying to escape his grasp. Rantaro didn’t hesitate to tighten his grip on the boy, forcing him to look up at him.

“Why did you do it, Kokichi?”

“Do what!? Let me go.”

“Not until you answer me.” Rantaro avoided his gaze, becoming sick by the words leaving his mouth. “Why did you mess around with Saihara?”

Kokichi stopped struggling, gazing up at the taller boy with ferocious intensity.

“What makes you think that’s any of your business, Rantaro?”

Amami felt his resolution falter, before arriving at an answer.

“Because I know you better than anyone else, Kokichi. And I know how things like this have ended for you in the past. I don’t want to see you get hurt anymore, please…” Rantaro hadn’t realized he was crying until he felt the tears fall from his eyes, landing on Kokichi’s pale skin. “Please… Just let me take care of you…” He begged weakly.

He would give Kokichi the world if he asked for it. He would do anything to protect him. He wanted to guard his heart from the people with bad intentions. He wanted to make him smile, and give him pleasure.

“I love you so much.” Rantaro cried as he let the words slip out. It wasn’t a confession, it was just him expressing his love for his best friend. It wasn’t a confession.

Kokichi’s face was disturbingly unreadable as he watched his friend cry, before a dark gleam clouded his eyes.

“Then,” Kokichi began with a dark tone. “Will you do anything for me?”

More tears slipped from Rantaro’s eyes as he nodded to the boy underneath him.

“Then I need your help…” Kokichi whispered. A wolfish grin grin appeared on the boy’s face, his eyes narrowing. His face matched the darkness of the dim room as he spoke. “I want to destroy them all.”

Rantaro gazed disconcertedly at the malicious looking boy, not truly understanding his words.

He felt Kokichi slink his arms free before wrapping them around the taller boy’s neck, pulling him down. Rantaro’s face collided with Kokichi’s.

It took him a moment to realize the pillowy sensation against his mouth were Kokichi’s lips. They were soft and slightly wet, pressing firmly against his own. The small boy let out a sigh as he separated their lips once more.

Rantaro stared at him like a deer in the headlights as he pulled back to look at him. It had been years since he had kissed Kokichi, and he wasn’t expecting it to just happen again so suddenly.

“Did you hate that?” The small boy sighed. Rantaro was so entranced in his thoughts that he couldn’t bring himself to produce a reply. Kokichi blinked away his expression, replacing it with a mischevious smile.

“Sorry, Amami-chan! I was just joking! Now that you and Kaede are through I figured I can pull those kind of pranks now too, hmm?”

Rantaro let out a small gasp as the boy slid away from underneath him, cocooning himself in the blankets and shutting his eyes without another word.

“Wait, Kokichi, I-”

“Shut up, I’m sleeping.”

It was an obvious lie, but Rantaro decided to accept it. He was still stunned and reeling from the unexpected kiss. He hadn’t hated it at all, and he felt guilty for giving the small boy the wrong impression, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

Rantaro’s head hit the pillow as he stared at the ‘sleeping’ boy’s face. He looked strained and uneasy, so Rantaro moved a hand to clear the hair from his face before massaging circles into his head. The small boy’s taut expression gradually loosened from his touch, until Rantaro heard him snoring lightly.

Rantaro’s chest swelled with admiration as he closely examined the boy’s sleeping face. His soft, pale skin… His fine and wispy hair… His innocent-looking features on his delicate face.

“...You’re so beautiful.” He whispered to himself.

He felt shame clawing at the back of his mind as he realized how pathetic he sounded. Ouma’s kiss had made him realize the drive behind his actions lately. He _wanted_ it. He wanted Ouma to kiss him, and he had been desperately trying to drop the small boy hints for a while now.

He felt sick with himself. Why was he so obsessed with getting a kiss from Kokichi?

His hands slipped under the covers and snaked their way to the small boy’s thin waist. He trailed his fingers across the warm skin of his hips, almost daring to travel lower before catching himself.

Why did it feel so good?

He felt a firmness growing in his pants, causing him to shrink away from the sleeping boy.

_What the hell is wrong with me…?_

He felt confused and lost as he shut his eyes tightly, desperately ignoring the arousal he felt. He bit his cheek so hard he thought he might bleed as he struggled with his complex thoughts.

It was going to be a long night.

 

 

-

 

 

By the time Rantaro woke up, it was already mid-afternoon. He always relied on his alarm to wake him up, so when he looked over and saw that it had been unplugged he grew confused. After groggily getting himself out of bed, he discovered Kokichi sitting on the floor, sketching away in the tall boy’s school notebook.

He chastised the boy for being childish and skipping classes again, before Ouma started sulking over how hungry he was.

It took Rantaro a moment to remember everything that had happened last night. Everything about this morning just seemed so routine that he had simply forgotten.

“Oh yeah, I met your roommate last night! Hoshi-san, or whatever. He seems cool, but he was a little weirded out by the fact that you just take home random boys and sleep with them in the middle of the night.”

Rantaro sputtered. “Oh God, Kokichi, what did you tell him?”

The small boy giggled mischievously in response, causing Rantaro to blush slightly.

_Whatever, not like it matters. I rarely see the guy anyways._

Per Ouma’s request, Rantaro took him out to eat as always. Rantaro, however, found himself unable to eat.

He had to pinch himself every time his eyes wandered to Kokichi’s lips, remembering the feeling of them last night.

On their way back they saw a few decorations being put up around campus for Thanksgiving. Rantaro had completely forgotten that the holiday was coming up with everything that had been happening lately.

“Are you going home for the holiday, Amami-chan?” Kokichi asked curiously as they walked.

Amami thought for a while about his answer.

“No.” He stated firmly.

“Won’t your sisters miss you?”

“Maybe so, but…” He trailed off. “Who is gonna take care of you if I go home?” He acknowledged.

Rantaro loved his little sisters, but he knew for a fact Kokichi would never return home for Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much for the small boy to return to. He would stay here on campus, and with his broken ankle Rantaro couldn’t bare to leave him alone.

Besides, there was another reason not to return home in the back of his mind. He couldn’t possibly face his parents now. He would have to tell them about Kaede eventually, but there was an even bigger problem. His strange thoughts about Kokichi were coming to an all-time peak. They would hate him if they knew how he had thought about touching the small boy, even if it was Kokichi’s doing.

They had always warned him to stay away from Kokichi. Even if his parents gave off a friendly, loving attitude, they had quite a spiteful side behind closed doors.

He so vividly remembers being a child, just about 6 years old, playing on his gameboy in the living room while his parents browsed through the TV channels. They stumbled across a show in which two girls were kissing, and his mother let out a retching noise before covering up his eyes and quickly changing the channel.

He remembers the time when he was 8 years old, his father pointed across the street at the family down the road. Two men were happily pushing a small boy on a swing set. His father knelt down, grabbed him by the shoulders, looked him in the eyes and said,

_“Don’t ever end up like those faggots, hear me?”_

Rantaro didn’t understand what that word meant, but he nodded attentively.

_“Yes, sir.”_

After he met Kokichi, he had started to sleep over at his house almost every day. Once, when Kokichi’s parents were out of town, he stayed over at Rantaro’s house for the first time. The two boys had climbed into bed together, holding each other tightly throughout the night. When his father had found them the next morning, Rantaro could tell he was holding back rage.

After Kokichi left, his father sat him down and explained to him that what he was doing was wrong. He had called it, ‘a sin.’

That was a word Rantaro knew well from all his previous years of catholic school. It was a word associated with killing, stealing, and now, the innocent touches he shared with his best friend. Somehow, the last item on that list didn’t seem to fit as well as the first two.

But why would his father lie to him? It must be true.

After Kokichi had confessed to him and kissed him, the pictures started circulating around school. Rantaro thought everything was over for him, until Kokichi had come out as gay.

His parents had heard about what happened from one of his sisters. They threatened legal action against Kokichi, much to Rantaro’s dismay.

_“I always knew that little queer was trouble. You stay away from him.”_

After that, his relationship with his father became strained. He refused to cast Kokichi aside, even if he was a ‘filthy sinner.’

Everyone was a sinner, after all. So why was this one so unforgivable to them?

He looked down at the sinner in question as they walked into the elevator to Rantaro’s floor. He had gone awfully quiet, and had a solemn look on his face. Rantaro wanted to ask what was wrong, but he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

He moved his hand to grasp Kokichi’s, offering a comforting squeeze. Kokichi jumped in surprise, before masking his face with a bright smile.

The elevator dinged open, and the two made their way towards the dorm.

_He must still be thinking about Saihara._

Rantaro couldn’t help but think about it, too. He had never seen Kokichi so affected by someone before. He didn’t like it.

“Kokichi…” He called out to the boy as they approached the door. “Do you love him?”

The small boy stopped, not turning around to face him.

There was nothing but frigid silence for a while, and Rantaro instantly regretted his question. After all, the answer he wanted to hear might not be the truth.

“I already told you, my beloved Amami-chan.” Kokichi finally turned to face him, the same dreary expression on his face as last night.

“I just want to destroy him.”

“What does that mean…?” Rantaro questioned nervously.

“Oh? Do you really wanna know?” Kokichi tilted his head sweetly before reaching out grab Rantaro by his necklace. He sharply pulled him down, their lips just inches away once again. Rantaro’s breath hitched as he fought the urge to push forward.

Rantaro had never been a sexually charged person. None of his girlfriends had ever really done it for him; yet here he was, feeling his knees go weak from the piercing purple gaze and the small boy’s breath tickling his neck. He just didn’t understand, but he weakly nodded to the small boy as he failed to compose himself.

“Then, will you let me use you, Rantaro?”

He inched the taller boy closer as he lowered his voice to a low whisper. His mind was being consumed with desire as he felt the heat scorching his cheeks.

“You know I’ll do anything for you, Kokichi…” He felt the blood rushing through his veins as he waited with bated breath for what might come next. He stared deeply into the violet abyss of Kokichi’s eyes, fighting off the hunger that absorbed him.

“Prove it.”

Kokichi didn't need to say any more. The chains holding Rantaro back broke as he grasped Kokichi’s face to pull him in for a kiss.

It felt like the first time.

In a sense, maybe it was. This was the only time Rantaro had ever kissed Kokichi without having to be told to do so. It should’ve been disgusting. He should hate himself for kissing another boy of his own free will; his family certainly would.

Yet it felt so amazing. It felt like the dam within him had finally burst, and he could just be honest with himself.

He wanted this, and maybe that was okay.

He didn’t have to hold back anymore as he pressed Kokichi against the door. He didn’t care if anyone saw them. Kokichi’s tongue prodded at his lips, and he fervently tilted his head to give him access. He pushed against the smaller boy’s body until his back hit the door. Rantaro pried his eyes open to gaze down at the boy. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes half-lidded, gazing lustfully back into his.

Rantaro couldn’t remember a time in his life when he had been more turned on than now. He couldn’t hold back any longer, fumbling for the door handle. Just before he turned the knob, he noticed Kokichi’s eyes flicker off towards the staircase, but he paid it no mind.

The friction of their bodies pressed together disappeared as they stumbled backwards into the dark room. Kokichi’s crutch fell to the floor with a clatter, and Rantaro bent to grab the small boy by the legs, lifting him up while continuing their passionate kiss.

Kokichi moaned into his mouth while swirling his tongue around his piercing. Ouma was almost as adept at kissing as he was, the two struggling to outdo each other. The small boy in his arms lightly tugged at his hair before pulling away to inhale sharply.

Rantaro effectively tossed Kokichi onto his bed, before crawling on top of the boy to pin him down. Ouma squirmed underneath him, bucking his hips up to try reuniting with the sweet contact. Amami simply hovered over the boy, drinking in the breathtaking sight.

Ouma’s eyes were filled to the brim with lust, his face flushed red and his hair falling wildly all over his face. His mouth remained open and begging for more as he licked his lips. Rantaro wondered if he was simply having the a vivid dream.

“C’mon, stop staring.” Ouma whined between ragged breaths.  “Kiss me, touch me, _fuck me._ Anything.”

The boy’s words went straight to his hardened member. He realized he had been starving to hear those words from the small boy’’s mouth for years. He ravenously bit at Kokichi’s lips as he began undoing his scarf.

“Ah…” The small boy breathed a sigh of relief at the contact as he was stripped of his scarf. Amami began to work on his shirt, unfastening the overly-complicated clasps that ran down the front. They broke their messy kiss to pull their shirts over their heads, before desperately returning to each other’s mouths

He shivered as he felt Kokichi’s cold hands roaming across his stomach, dipping into the curves of his muscles before tracing the outline of his hips. He followed the curve of the bone down to his hard member, cupping the outline and rubbing his palm against it. The friction was so sweet it made Rantaro audibly gasp into their kiss, earning a sly laugh from his friend.

 _“Fuck, Kokichi…”_   He groaned as the boy unzipped his pants. Having Kokichi touch him there was surreal, and it felt so intoxicating. He had never wanted to be inside someone so badly before.

However, that was unfortunately when Rantaro realized he had no idea how to have sex with another man.

“Nghh… Hey, Kokichi…?”

“Yes, Rantaro?” The boy answered as he slipped his hand underneath the tight elastic band of his underwear.

“Ah…” Rantaro felt like he was melting from the skin to skin contact. Trying not to sound as unconfident as he was, he continued. “How… Um, like…”

Kokichi snorted and rolled his eyes, and Rantaro felt butterflies in stomach. He certainly wasn’t used to being treated like a clueless virgin.

“Do you have condoms and lube?” Kokichi took charge, leaning over to open the drawer of his bedside table. “Bing~o~.” He sing-songed as he pulled the items out of the drawer.

Rantaro nervously rubbed the back of his neck as he chuckled. Kokichi inspected the effects before tapping thoughtfully at his chin.

Amami watched carefully as Kokichi ripped open the package with his teeth. Kokichi suddenly lurched forward, pressing his palm against Rantaro’s bare chest. The taller boy was surprised by how much force such a fragile-looking figure could produce, falling onto his back. He let out a surprised noise, before propping himself up on his elbows.

Kokichi grasped the band of Rantaro’s underwear, pulling it down slowly. Rantaro inhaled sharply as his member sprung free. His eyes returned to roam over Kokichi’s slim, shirtless body. Rantaro felt the overwhelming urge to touch him as he reached out a hand, tracing the boy’s collarbones.

Kokichi gave him a satisfied smile as he let both of his hands touch the boy, moving down his sides and following the curve of his hips.

He was so, so beautiful.

Rantaro was overwhelmed with curiosity as he noticed the small boy’s nipples hardening from his soft touches. He allowed his hands to trail back upwards to roll the pink buds between his fingers.

“Nnn! Rantaro…” Kokichi arched his back from the contact, and Rantaro was enraptured by the sight. He wasn’t expecting such a reaction from the small boy, as he had thought nipples were only sensitive for girls.

Rantaro realized he had a lot to learn.

Rantaro’s hardened dick ached with need as he continued to thumb over the small boy’s sensitive spots, getting drunk off the erotic twitches and sounds the small boy made.

“H-Hey, Amami-chan...! Wanna see something cool?” Kokichi’s tone changed from lustful to playful in a matter of seconds, throwing the tall boy off guard.

“Oh, um, sure?”

The small boy giggled as he pulled the condom back out, bringing the piece of latex up to his mouth. The boy stuck out his tongue before slipping the condom into his mouth.

Rantaro stared dumbfounded at the boy, tilting his head confusedly.  

Did he just _eat it?_

The boy unexpectedly bowed his head, hovering his mouth just above the tip of Rantaro’s dick, before sliding his mouth onto the top. Rantaro sucked in and tensed his muscles from the sudden appearance of Kokichi’s hot and wet mouth around his cock. He was by no means ready for the euphoric pleasure as Kokichi slid his mouth further down Rantaro’s thick member, nearly touching the base before he started to gag. The taller boy threw his head back, letting out a lewd groan. He felt Kokichi giggle around his shaft, sending tingles throughout his body.

The small boy removed his mouth from Rantaro’s length, and he suddenly felt empty and yearning for more.

He looked down at his member, realizing Kokichi had slid the condom onto him while he was down there. Rantaro was, in a word, amazed.

The only problem was he had no idea what to do next. Kokichi seemed to sense his hesitation. The small boy leaned into Rantaro’s body, and he felt Kokichi’s own hardness pressing against his. It was all very overwhelming and unfamiliar.

Suddenly, he felt Kokichi’s hand caress his face, coming to a stop at his chin.

“Don’t worry. I’ll show you how it’s done, pretty boy.” Kokichi’s sultry voice causing him to grow even stiffer with arousal. The small boy removed his pants, before he pushed Rantaro backwards once again. This time he stayed laying down as Kokichi adjusted himself to sit on his stomach, his ass rubbing teasingly against the tall boy’s throbbing member. He feared he wouldn’t last very long at this rate.

Kokichi grabbed the bottle of lube and Rantaro’s hand, coating his fingers lightly in the substance. The small boy lifted his weight off of Rantaro, and the taller boy understood what should happen next.

He found Kokichi’s entrance, tentatively pressing a finger inside. Kokichi made a noise of approval as Rantaro slid inside. The sensation was extremely unfamiliar and unusual to Rantaro, but he somehow didn’t hate it.

“More…” Kokichi sighed blissfully.

Rantaro bit his lip as he prodded at the tight entrance with a second finger. It slid in with a slight resistance, but adjusted quickly as he began to slowly move.

“Oh please, I’m not a fragile little virgin, just get on with it.”

Rantaro was briefly shocked by the statement, wondering if it was really true. For now, he decided to take his word for it.

He pushed two more fingers into the boy’s opening, earning a gasp from his lips. The small boy’s head rolled back, exposing his slender neck. Rantaro used his free hand to grip his arm, pulling him down to lay on top of his chest.

The boy made a confused noise, before melting into mewls of pleasure from Rantaro’s fingers deeply probing his insides. Kokichi’s hands rested on Rantaro chest, curling as Rantaro quickened his pace. He felt the sweet sting of pain from the small boy’s nails scratching against his skin. Rantaro let his free hand roam around the boy’s body, lightly petting the arch of his back as he worked the boy up.

He felt a wetness leaking onto his stomach from where Kokichi gratuitously squirmed against him as he moaned. The lewdness of it all went straight to Rantaro’s cock, aching painfully to be inside the small boy.

He gave a few more pushes before removing his fingers from the boy, causing him to whine shamelessly against his chest. Kokichi collected himself and stood straight, quickly coating Rantaro’s member with lube.

The tall boy grabbed Ouma by the waist, flipping him onto his back. He figured it wasn’t a good idea to have Ouma on top with his broken ankle.

Rantaro lined up his cock at Kokichi’s entrance. It was incredibly tight as he tried to push in, resisting him.

“Kokichi, relax.” Rantaro soothed the boy, whose eyes were tightly shut.

“I-I know that!” He retorted, before taking a deep breath. Rantaro felt the tense muscles loosen slightly, taking that as his cue to bury himself to the hilt inside the small boy.

“Nghh…!”

“Are you okay…?” Rantaro asked with concern, bringing a hand up to caress Kokichi’s face. The boy’s face was hot, and he was breathing raggedly. Rantaro wondered if he did something wrong, before realization dawned on him. 

“Kokichi… please tell me you didn’t lie about not being a virgin…”

“Who cares…? Just move already…”

“Kokichi…” Rantaro felt guilt swelling in his chest.

“Fuck Rantaro, please move!” Kokichi begged, attempting to grind down onto the taller boy’s cock.

Heeding the boy’s plea, Rantaro pulled back before giving a hesitant thrust. A groan escaped his lips from the blissful, tight pressure. Ouma threw his head to the side, stifling his moan with the back of his hand.

Rantaro grabbed the hand away from Kokichi’s mouth, lacing his fingers between the small boy’s as he held his hand over his head. He wanted to hear every impure noise the boy would make a he fucked him. 

Rantaro started to thrust steadily, feeling the boy’s hand tighten around his as moans spilled from his lips.

“Harder..!” Kokichi demanded. Rantaro couldn't help but oblige, quickening his pace as the small boy squirmed and gasped underneath him.

Rantaro felt sweat dripping down his skin as he lost himself in the carnal pleasure building with each thrust. Ouma wriggled his small body around until he found the perfect angle.

“Oh God, fuck- Rantaro, there!” Kokichi wrapped his legs tightly around Rantaro, begging him to hit his sweet spot again. Rantaro didn’t understand, but every time he pounded into Kokichi from that particular angle, the boy went wild with pleasure. His wanton moans and the way his lithe body twisted in pleasure sent waves of heat through Rantaro's body. 

“Kokichi, I’m close…” He knew he wasn’t going to last very long with how pent-up he had been, but the sound of his cock slamming repeatedly into the small boy as he moaned lecherously, gripping the sheets and his hand tightly was threatening to make him mad with ecstasy. He felt a tingling sensation building as he buried himself into the boy he loved so very much.

Rantaro wondered to himself how he had ever managed to convince himself he was straight. He was in love with Ouma Kokichi; it was so obvious. He had wanted to fuck him like this so badly for years. 

He continuously abused the spot that made Kokichi whine with euphoria until the boy fell apart, tears forming in his eyes as he tightened around his cock. He wanted Kokichi to come first, but he was so close to the edge now. He thrust relentlessly as he moved his hands to stroke the small boy. He twisted his hand around Kokichi's shaft as he pounded into the boy.

“Ah! I’m gonna…!” One more hit to Kokichi’s weakness was all it took for the boy arch his back in climax.

The way Kokichi tightened around his cock as he cried out in pleasure caused Rantaro to thrust once more in completion, letting out a carnal moan as the warm sensation coursed through his body.

His member twitched inside his best friend as the last of his cum was released. He felt Kokichi’s thighs trembling slightly around his waist as he panted heavily. Rantaro’s body gave out as he collapsed on top of the small boy, producing a shriek from him.

“I’ve never… come so hard… in my life…” He praised through panting breaths as he rolled onto his side, holding the small boy in his arms. He trembled as he caught his breath, nuzzling into the tall boy's chest.

“Hey, Kokichi…?”

“Yes, Rantaro?”

“I love you.”

The small boy giggled. “How sappy; I love you too.”

“No…” Rantaro shook his head as he held the boy closer. He kissed his forehead as his breathing steadied and the afterglow faded. 

The boy didn't seem to understand his words. This was no longer the love they had shared as best friends through all these years, this was something so much deeper to Rantaro now. 

Just as he was about to explain himself, the two boys jumped as they heard a knock at the door. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, both boys have realized they love the dumbass grape gremlin.
> 
> Anyways I hope Rantaro's backstory is starting to make sense now! I relate to his story a lot sadly, as in, growing up with homophobic parents and struggling with coming to accept yourself. It's very damaging and can lead to a lot of self-hatred at a very young age, not to mention so so so much confusion when you start to have feelings for someone of the same gender. 
> 
> But enough angst, this story is definitely about to pick up in intensity now that (almost) everyone has sorted out their feelings, so if you thought u were on a rollercoaster of emotions before, strap in kiddos. 
> 
> See you soon~


	20. Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long, im a potato

“You’re a fucking monster.” His father spat the words as he glowered down at the boy in the hospital gown. 

Kokichi blinked back up at his father, unsure how to respond. 

“I’m sorry…” 

“You’re sorry, huh?” He knelt down to grab the young boy’s shirt, jerking him forward. His breath smelled of whiskey and cigarettes. “You better be sorry, you fucking killed her!” 

“I didn’t…” 

He felt his father’s large palm connect to the side of his face, a loud slap disturbing the quiet of the empty hospital room.  The wounds on Kokichi’s face stung and burned from the strike, but he didn’t cry out or scream. 

“It’s all your fault…” His father began an ugly sob. “I loved her… I loved her so much…” His voice broke as he grieved to himself. Kokichi stared numbly at the ground, he knew nothing he would say would change his father’s mind. 

“I never even wanted you.” 

“I know.” He answered truthfully. 

He kept quiet as his father collected himself from his grieving stupor. He had made a stupid joke as usual, and his father wasn’t having it anymore. 

Maybe it _ was  _ his fault that his mother had died. Maybe it all happened because he had been throwing a tantrum in the backseat, and distracted her. Maybe he was a monster for laughing, and for telling a joke. 

Things would be different without his mother around now. It would be hard to adjust to, and to his young brain, it still didn’t even feel like reality. He was waiting patiently to wake up any time now. 

His father collected the paperwork he had come for. Her funeral would be a week from now, apparently. He didn’t say another word as he shut the door behind him. 

Kokichi caught himself giggling when he finally left. 

“I’m a monster.” He repeated aloud, testing the words on his tongue. His giggle turned to a steady laughter as he spun wildly around the room, threatening to knock over the expensive medical equipment. He couldn’t control himself as he began to hysterically cackle to himself. He didn’t understand why it felt so good to just laugh off such a horrible tragedy. Why it was making him feel safe, numbing the grief in his heart, and making the pain his father’s palm had left on his face duller. 

It hurt so badly. He wanted his mom back, even if she hated him most of the time. He never wanted her to die. He didn’t want his father to hate him. The pain seared into his chest, infecting his mind like a plague as the laughter enveloped him. It was as if his body was out of his own control. 

He decided the word ‘Monster’ fit him quite well that day.

He decided it was a role he was willing and able to play, for the sake of giving everyone a reason to hate him. His entire family would stare and whisper about him at the funeral, saying that it was all his fault. 

_ “I heard Kokichi-chan did it on purpose…”  _

_ “He’s a demon… His mother deserved better.”  _

_ “Did you hear he laughed? How fucked up is that?”  _

When his braver family members would approach him to question the rumors, he simply smirked. They already thought he was a monster, so he would show them all what a real monster was like.

“Mm! That’s right, I killed my mother; and it was hilarious! Seriously, you shoulda’ been there!” 

He walked out of the church that day with a smile plastered on his face amongst the sea of gloomy, grieving faces. He didn’t bother to watch her casket be lowered; no one wanted him there anyways. 

Years later, he would decide to play the monster once again. As Amami-chan pinned him to the door, his eyes flickered open. The sight of golden eyes and a thin, trembling frame near the staircase caught his eyes. He smirked into the kiss, revelling in the face of misery he stared at. 

_ Good. Suffer. _

He hadn’t slept at all last night. He stayed up staring into the mirror in Rantaro’s bathroom. Saihara’s every word played through his head like a lyrics to a catchy song that you hate. 

Saihara thought he was a monster, too. Maybe he and Ouma’s father would get along, then. 

Ouma could never explain why he did such cruel things. When he felt scared or vulnerable, he lashed out. When he felt pain, he wanted others to feel it too. He was a freak who could only survive by dragging others down to his level. He was disgusted by his own reflection, yet he wore a wicked smile.

_ “Kokichi… Do you love him?” _

The words had frozen him solid. They were the same words that clawed at the back of his mind more and more with each passing day, but now he was confronted with them out loud. 

His mind immediately answered no. Of course not. How could a monster like him love someone so pure? He didn’t deserve more than a passing glance from the detective, led alone his love. 

Yet his heart ached at the question. He felt confirmation on the tip of his tongue before he remembered the disgusted scowl the detective had given him. He swallowed his feelings, replacing them with pure malice as his heart begged for retribution. 

That’s right. Saihara wasn’t that pure after all. Saihara was just as dirty as he was. He had greedily accepted Ouma’s advances until it was no longer convenient for him, then he had tossed him aside with loathing. He was just like everyone else. Ouma was just a toy to him, and people hated it when their toys were stolen from them. 

“I just want to destroy him.” He had answered after battling with his thoughts. His body was in agony as his mind and heart tore each other apart. He needed to quell his thoughts, erase the boy from his mind and stomp on his darkened heart until it stopped feeling anything at all. He grew reckless as the detective’s antagonistic words swirled in his mind, threatening to drive him mad. They hadn’t left him ever since they had been spoken, and he hated that he cared so revoltingly much about what the detective had to say about him. It’s not like he hadn’t heard worse in the past, and yet in that moment it had been the worst torment he had ever felt.

He just wanted to be set free of the torturous regret. The small boy knew deep down that it was all his fault, that he had brought this all on himself. He harbored so much hatred for himself that it began to spill over, infecting everyone around him, even Saihara-chan’s beautiful heart. 

He longed to feel apathy. Even if he had to lie to himself, he would do everything in his power to stop the stinging ache in his chest. 

_ I don’t love him. I don’t love him. I don’t love him. I don’t love him.  _

_ That’s right.  _

_ I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. _

_ I just want to make him suffer.  _

He felt the pain disappearing as Rantaro kissed him, melting into pure detachment. Rantaro was the only person in this world who had ever loved him, and it seemed now that that would never change. 

Kaede and Shuuichi. They would be the ones to break from what the two boys were about to do, and the thought made Kokichi want to laugh. 

_ It’s what they deserve.  _

He lied to himself as he felt control of his thoughts slip away, replaced by only the desire to dominate his pathetic emotions. 

Maybe he would have hell to pay for this later. Maybe he would regret this later. Maybe this was the best decision of his life. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care anymore as he gave in to the sweet taste of Amami-chan’s mouth. 

He was just glad the pain had stopped. 

 

 

-

 

 

As the two boys lay panting side by side, Rantaro had seemed like he was about to say something important. However, he was cut off by the knock at the door. 

The two looked at each other concernedly. Rantaro sat himself up before loosely slinging his clothes back on. Ouma began to do the same. He had gotten his pants on and was beginning to put his shirt back on, but was startled when he heard the door swing open. 

To his shock, Rantaro had opened the door before Kokichi had a chance to finish dressing himself, incriminating the two boys instantly. Kokichi wondered just what the hell Amami was thinking; his life would be over if anyone else found out about this. 

“Oh! You’re actually here… Thank goodness…” Kokichi heard a girl’s voice from behind Rantaro’s figure in the doorway. He went rigid with fear when he recognised the voice as Kaede’s. 

The girl’s eyes were fixated on Rantaro, who mostly blocked the small boy from view. Kokichi remained still to not alert the girl to his presence. 

Rantaro didn’t answer the girl, he only stared impatiently at her until she shifted uncomfortably. 

“Look, I know you’re not happy with me right now… And I don’t blame you! But-” 

“I’m not interested in getting back together, Kaede.” He cut the girl off with a sigh. Kokichi’s jaw practically hit the floor. What the hell was he doing? 

“...Huh? Rantaro…” Kaede knitted her brows together as she weakly protested, but the taller boy simply shook his head. 

“You were right, Kaede. I’ve been lying to myself for a long time now, and I’ve been using you too. I’m sorry, but this is the truth.” 

Kokichi’s head spun with confusion and dismay as he listened to his friend declare the end of his relationship. He didn’t understand what Rantaro was talking about. Was this because of what they had done? Ouma swallowed hard, praying that that wasn’t the case. 

“Rantaro…” The girl quietly raised a hand to caress the side of the tall boy’s face. “I already knew that. I’ve known for a long time now. That’s not what I came here for…” She smiled compassionately at the boy, who softened in response. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. 

“I love you, Rantaro. I always will, but I understand that you have some things you need to work through now. I didn’t come here in hopes of saving our relationship, but in hopes of saving our friendship. Earlier today, Shuuichi reminded me of how important that was to me. Until you sort out your feelings, I’m willing to wait for you.” 

Rantaro seemed just as stunned as Kokichi now. The name of the detective caused a pang in Kokichi’s heart that he quickly shooed away. 

“Shuuichi…?” Rantaro questioned. 

“Yes. He’s been very brave, and I’m really proud of him. He’s come a long way since I knew him back in high school. He wanted to apologize to Ouma-kun, and-” Kokichi hung on her every word until she was interrupted once more by the tall boy. 

“Saihara doesn’t need to apologize to Kokichi. He can’t handle him like I can, anyways.” 

Kaede knit her brows in concern, before she caught a glimpse of the shirtless boy on the bed. Her eyes widened as they flickered between the two boys. Kokichi felt his heart drop, but there was no going back now. 

“Oh, hi! How’s it going Kaede?” He gave her a chipper smile, pretending nothing was suspicious about the situation at all. 

“...Kokichi…? What?” 

“Don’t mind me, I was just leaving.” He announced nonchalantly. 

“Huh? Wait, Kokichi!” Rantaro called as Kokichi hastily gathered his things, slipping his shirt back on. He couldn’t escape from this situation fast enough, but was slowed significantly by his crutches. Rantaro grasped his shoulder as he attempted to make his way out. “You can’t just… _ leave _ after that.” 

“I can and I will!” Kokichi shrugged his shoulder away from Rantaro’s touch as his heart raced under Kaede’s wavering gaze. “After all, I told you I just needed to use you, right?” He gave Rantaro a hardened stare, warning the boy not to argue. He saw the taller boy’s expression turn dejected, and he briefly wondered what his problem was. 

To be clear, Kokichi had enjoyed every second of making love with Rantaro. It was everything he had literally dreamed of for years. However, there was a voice in the back of his mind the whole time telling him that it was wrong to use his closest friend like this. Rantaro had seemed to enjoy himself, which gave him some solace, but he knew it was only for the sake of fulfilling his selfish wishes. He knew that what he did was wrong, and that Rantaro didn’t love him in that way. 

He was so fucked up; but it was too late to change his mind now. 

He turned away from the two without another word and made his way towards his own room. He desperately needed a moment of solitude. 

 

 

-

 

 

As soon as Kokichi got to his room, he tossed his crutch to the floor. He limped into the bathroom, supporting his weight along the wall. His ankle hurt, but his ass also hurt now. 

He had expected losing his virginity to hurt a little, but it didn’t help that Rantaro was… above average. He blushed before knocking his fist against his skull a few times. 

He still couldn’t believe what had happened. He had completely lost himself in the moment, but now that it was over he was able to think clearly. Years of ‘what ifs’ and painful desire, all just melting away in a matter of seconds. 

Was what had happened between them even real, though? Rantaro was just following orders, as usual. In the moment, he had tricked himself into believing that it was all genuine. Now, he was left with the sickening realization that he had manipulated the person he loved into having sex with him just to hurt the others. His wobbling knee gave out from the pressure of supporting his entire weight, and he crumpled to the floor. 

At least he had lost his virginity to someone he loved, real or fake. 

And after all, he had accomplished his goal, right? Saihara and Kaede both knew now, and they were crushed. Saihara-chan had been trying to make up with him, apparently. He was coming to apologize, and was greeted with such a devastating sight. What a great twist!

And poor, sweet Kaede; she remained so humble and kind-hearted as she offered her heart up, only to have her dreams crushed. How hilarious! 

He had done it. He had destroyed them from the inside. He would never forget the looks on their faces; pure anguish. 

As he revelled in his supposed success, he realized he had been crying for a while now. 

“Huh…?” He wiped at the tears burning his reddened cheeks, complimenting the searing agony in his heart. 

“Why…” He sobbed. “Why can’t I control my brain?” He pounded his fists against his skull as he sat pathetically on the dirty bathroom floor, wailing helplessly. 

“Monster…” He whispered through his tears, carrying himself to bed. 

 

 

-

 

 

He cried until he fell asleep that night, waking to the sound of birds chirping outside. He checked his phone, seeing that he had several missed calls from Amami-chan. He didn’t plan on returning them, as he had no idea how he was even going to face the tall boy today. His heart dropped at the thought. 

He felt numb as he tried to dress himself. He was getting better each day at living with his impairment. The doctors had told him he was healing at a faster rate because he was young and in good health. That wasn’t a term he was used to hearing, but he was glad if it meant he could be back on his own two feet faster. 

He decided not to skip class today for multiple reasons. One, because he had skipped class so many times the past few days he figured he was at risk of being dropped if he didn’t show up. Two, because he desperately wanted to see Saihara-chan. 

He didn’t understand it, but he longed to see the boy’s face. Even though there was no doubt he hated him now, and maybe Kokichi hated him a little too. He just couldn’t bring himself to stay away. Kokichi was going to do his best to pretend nothing had happened, maybe Saihara-chan would just play along for once. 

_ Yeah, right.  _

As he approached the classroom, he saw a sight that made him want to turn around and go back to his room immediately.

Saihara-chan was there, alright, but so were Harukawa and Momota. They almost protectively surrounded him as they talked, Saihara-chan having a clear dismal aura. He decided maybe class wasn’t such a good idea today. 

However, he was much too late as Harukawa’s blood red eyes immediately locked with his. 

“ _ You…”  _ She spat coldly, approaching him at a speed he couldn’t counter. “What did you do?” She questioned the small boy with a hostile tone as she peered down at him. He smirked, it seemed nothing mattered anymore anyways, so he threw caution to the wind. 

“Rantaro Amami.” He answered cordially, causing the girl to recoil slightly. 

Saihara-chan was clearly in range of hearing his words as Momota-kun’s mouth hung agape. 

“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you? Shuuichi is right here!” 

Kokichi nearly rolled his eyes at the idiot’s words. Saihara-chan’s gaze was fixated on the ground, and Kokichi found himself taking a sick pleasure in seeing the boy so affected by him. 

“Ohmigosh, is he? I totallllllly didn’t notice! My bad, that was kind of insensitive, wasn’t it?” 

“That’s it, I’m gonna punch him!” Kokichi braced himself when he heard the words, Momota closing in as Harukawa’s death glare drew closer as well. 

_ Ah. This is it. This is how I die.  _

He shut his eyes tightly as he heard a flurry of footsteps, waiting for Momota to punch him and Harukawa to stab him or  _ whateverthefuck _ she does, but the pain never came. He only heard Saihara-chan’s panicked voice from in front of him. 

“Stop it! I told you, don’t hurt him!” 

_ Huh? _

Kokichi cautiously cracked an eye open. He saw Saihara’s back standing in front of him, with his arms out to shield him from the other two. 

“What the hell are you doing, Shuuichi!?” Momota exclaimed. 

“Shuuichi, move. Now.” Harukawa growled. 

But he refused to budge. 

“I’m sorry, I won’t move. I won’t let you hurt him.” 

Kokichi’s heart skipped a beat as he stood stunned. He couldn’t even fathom why Saihara would choose to protect him now. 

_ He should hate me…  _

“Why not, my beloved Saihara-chan?” Kokichi asked from behind. The detective finally turned his head to face him, and the moment their eyes met, everyone else seemed to disappear. “After all, I hurt you, right?” Kokichi kept his face straight as he pointed out.  

“Ouma-kun…” Saihara-chan’s eyes softened as they stared at each other. Suddenly, the detective dropped his protective stance, turning around to face the small boy fully. “Of course you did. But, I think I know why you did it.”  

The detective collected Ouma’s free hand in his, never looking away from his eyes. Ouma felt butterflies in his stomach as the detective’s eyes teared up a little. 

“It’s because I hurt you too, right?” 

Ouma felt control of his emotions slipping at the detective’s compassionate words. 

How could he be so kind, even now? Even though he had called him a monster, just like his father, he looked at him now like he was a human being. Ouma’s heart fell into turmoil and confusion, and he felt himself wanting to run away. However, as he tried to pull away, Saihara only held his hand tighter. 

“Ouma-kun, listen to me…” Saihara began. “You can’t just keep running and hiding forever, you know.” 

“I could.” He stubbornly responded, causing the detective to sigh. Nothing the detective had to say right now could possibly be as important as his need to escape this- 

“I love you, Ouma-kun.” 

Ouma felt his mind short-circuit. 

“What!?” Momota indignantly blabbered, reminding them that they were not, in fact, alone. 

“Are you insane, Saihara?” Maki lectured. The two shot each other concerned glances before shutting their mouths. 

A blush appeared across Saihara’s face, signifying that this might actually be real. 

This might actually be happening. Ouma realized his mouth hung open as Saihara continued. 

“I can’t pretend that I’m okay with what you did, but I think I know why you did it.” Saihara’s melancholy tone gradually shifted to one of confidence. “I care about you, and what I said to you was uncalled for, I didn’t mean it…” He felt Saihara’s squeeze his hand affectionately. “But I want to believe that this isn't the end. I want to… be with you. So no matter what, I won’t give up on you.” 

Kokichi didn’t speak a word throughout Saihara’s entire confession, too busy being completely shell-shocked. His mind raced with questions without answers. His heart pounded and his palms were beginning to sweat. 

He felt scared. He was feeling things he wasn’t expecting to feel. He had been utterly unprepared for such kindness and love from the detective, and his entire world flipped upside down as he realized that maybe all of this could have been avoided if he wasn’t such a fucking lunatic. 

It was all too much to bear. His body was overheating, boiling over. His mind was berating him with sharp words. His heart was beating as if he had just run a marathon; on crutches. The overwhelming emotions were becoming painful, making his skin itch. 

He needed to hit the reset button. 

In the blink of an eye, all traces of emotion vanished from the small boy’s mind. Saihara still held his hand tightly, awaiting a response. And Kokichi certainly gave him one, just not the one he might’ve been expecting. 

Kokichi blew air out through his nose, before breaking into a giggle. 

“Nishishi! Are you serious right now, Saihara-chan?” The detective’s eyes widened at Ouma’s sudden outburst of laughter. Ouma simply yanked his hand away from the boy’s grip. “You honestly think I feel even the slightest bit guilty for what I did?” Ouma taunted the boy. “I’m perfectly fine, you idiot! Stop trying to analyze me all the damn time!” He shouted, causing Saihara to flinch. “You’re reading way too far into things here, my beloved Saihara-chan. I don't care about anyone or anything, and that’s the cold, hard truth. I’m just doing whatever I feel like doing, that’s all.” 

Ouma felt himself disconnecting with every word, pushing his emotions farther and farther away, until he truly couldn’t feel a thing anymore. He didn’t dare look Saihara in the eyes as he helplessly pushed him away once again.

“You little shit… I fucking knew it. What the hell is wrong with you!?” 

Ouma could only snort sarcastically in response to Momota’s ridiculous question. 

“Do you want a list?” 

“Ouma-kun-” 

“Anyways! I’m bored of this conversation now, so I’m gonna see myself out!” 

Ouma turned around, abandoning all hope of going to class today as he walked away from Saihara-chan with a disgusting smirk plastered on his face, feeling completely empty. 

 

 

-

 

 

He sat on his bed, as he had for the past few hours, staring up at the ceiling. He was trying to trace shapes and figures from the bumps and borders, a testament to his boredom. He had emailed all of his professors to tell them he couldn’t make it to class. Having a broken ankle helped with his lies, so he had been given another pass. 

He had stopped by a liquor store on his way back. He was going to try to steal some and bring it home with him to drink, but somehow he lost the nerve. 

This didn’t even feel like a problem he could drink away anymore. He might’ve been proud of himself if it wasn't for the fact that he was feeling so hollow. 

He had waited for hours now, and he wasn’t even sure what for. 

Perhaps he was waiting for Saihara to come back through the door. He shook his head violently. 

He didn’t want to think about Saihara-chan anymore. Or Amami-chan, or Kaede, or himself, or anything at all. 

He was just so emotionally exhausted. He would never be able to explain what was wrong with him, and he would never be deserving of love. That was just the truth, and now he had to learn to live with it. 

He stared out the window at the darkening sky. Even if he was the one shutting himself away, he had never felt so lonely. 

He heard his phone going off on the nightstand. He figured it might just be Amami-chan again, but he wasn’t sure if he had found the courage to talk to him yet. He reached over to send the call to voicemail, before seeing the name. 

_ Saihara-chan <3 is calling…  _

He practically dropped the phone when he read the name. It was very unusual for Saihara-chan to reach out to him like this. 

_ Maybe he really does have feelings for me…?  _

_ Or maybe he’s just calling to tell me he changed his mind.  _

Curiosity overwhelmed him, causing him to hit the ‘accept’ button decidedly. 

“Hello?” 

“O-Ouma-kun!?” Saihara’s surprised voice blurted out from the other line. 

“Uh, why’re you so surprised? You called me…?” Ouma questioned while holding back a smirk. He secretly thought that was adorable. 

“Oh, yeah, I know that… It’s just…” Saihara sighed. “I guess I was expecting a voicemail.” 

“Well, it’s you lucky day! I’ve blessed you with the next best thing; an ultra-advanced AI replica of myself that I programmed to answer the phone for me!” 

Saihara laughed, _ actually laughed _ , and Kokichi felt his mood lighten instantly. 

“Don’t lie, Ouma-kun.” Saihara lightheartedly answered. He didn’t sound mad in the slightest. 

“That’s like asking me not to breath.” Ouma felt his heart flutter at Saihara’s staticy laughter. Why was he so fucking cute? Ouma hated him for it. 

“A-anyways…” Saihara began after a moment of thoughtful silence. “I was just calling about… what happened earlier today.” 

_ Tch… So stubborn. _

Ouma felt himself internally groan. He didn’t want to talk about this. He grabbed his blankets and threw them over his body, hiding in a cocoon. Sensing his hesitation, Saihara continued on. 

“I know I probably made you uncomfortable, and I want you to know I’m not mad about the way you reacted. I know you’re still probably upset at me…” He paused. “But listen, I meant it when I said I won’t give up on you.” 

God, why is he so… 

_ You’re too good for me, Saihara-chan.  _

“Doesn’t Kaito ever get tired of you staying over every night? How about you come back to our room, my beloved Saihara-chan?”  

The words just came out before he could even think about them. He was feeling so caught up now, as if nothing bad had ever happened between the two of them. His chest swelled with warmth as they talked. The sound of Saihara-chan’s digital voice coming through his speakers, low and raspy from exhaustion. Saihara began to explain to him why he wouldn’t come back just yet. He held back the engulfing feeling of passion as he listened to the boy speak to him softly. 

He recognized this feeling all too well. It was the same feeling that he always had whenever Rantaro got too close to him. A longing, a desire, a devotion. 

It was… love? 

The thought shook him to his core.

_ Fuck, I’m feeling things.  _

“...So even after confessing your love for me you still won’t come back? You’re a better liar than I thought, Saihara-chan.” Ouma dropped his cheerful tone. 

“I’m not lying, Ouma-kun. I… really do…” 

“Hmm? You do what?” 

“Y-y’know…” 

“Do I?” He teased, letting his voice drop to an enticing lull. He didn’t know how to feel right now, but he did know that Saihara’s voice was turning him on. If nothing else, he understood that he wanted Saihara sexually. That was the only thing he had a firm grasp on anymore. 

It was so much easier to just forget everything else, including the thought of Amami-chan pinning him to the bed last night. He swallowed the guilt, forcing the thought away. 

“You know why I don’t want to come back yet, Ouma-kun. Don’t play dumb.” Saihara attempted to be stern, but Ouma sensed the quiver in his voice. 

“Hmm… lemme think.” Ouma flopped backwards onto the bed, engulfed under the blankets. “Is it because you want to fuck me, Saihara-chan?” 

He heard Saihara-chan gasp slightly. “Ouma…” 

Ouma ran his hands down to unbutton his pants. 

“Then we can just…” 

He was cut off by a knock at the door. 

“Ouma-kun…? What is that noise?” Saihara questioned.

“Kokichi… can you open the door?” Rantaro requested. 

“Well, shit…” Kokichi murmured. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting closer and closer to the end now, and i just wanna thank you all once again for all the support. This fic wouldn't exist if you guys didn't leave your comments and kudos and encouragement! Thank you all so much <3 
> 
> Also, I found the perfect song to describe Ouma in this fic! If you're interested its this; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCwS3VbfbvE
> 
> Anyways, have a great day <3


	21. Insecurities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Wowowowowowowow. I know what you're all thinking already, and im sorry this update took way longer than usual! Pls forgive. 
> 
> Anyways its finally here! As usual I'm about to go in to work so I don't have time to proofread, sorry if anything is off ^^;
> 
> So this chapter was supposed to be written from Ouma's POV but it just wasn't working for me?? So heres a Saihara enjoy~

****

Saihara struggled to understand why Kokichi was always trying to run away from his feelings. Just when he thought the two of them could have a serious conversation about the events that had taken place over the last few days, the small boy changed the subject and tried to seduce him once again. 

Saihara was a little ashamed to admit that it had almost worked, if not for the loud knocking sound that had interrupted them. 

“Ouma-kun…? What is that noise?” 

He heard another muffled voice coming from the small boy’s line. It sounded like someone was at the door. 

“Well, shit…” Kokichi murmured.

Before the detective could question the situation, he winced at the harsh tone of a button being pressed on Kokichi’s end. He heard the phone clatter to the ground, as if it had been thrown. 

“Ouma-kun…?” He asked quietly. He couldn’t see what was happening, but it sounded like the small boy was frantically hopping around the floor. For some reason, the sound quality was clearer now.

“Hey, Amami-chan~! What’s up?” 

The small boy cheerfully chirped the words, sending a chill down Saihara’s spine. 

Why was he there? Saihara’s mind flashed back to seeing him pinning Ouma against the wall before they… 

A dull pain began to fill his chest, and he shook the thought away. It was just torture to think about something he could never change. 

Saihara also couldn’t change the fact that he longed for the small boy, so he had decided it would be best to put it in the past and move forward. However, Amami-chan was making it hard to do that now. 

“Who were you talking to just now…?” He heard Amami ask. 

It dawned on Saihara that Kokichi had probably meant to hang up or mute the phone. 

The thought of being tossed aside so he could talk to Amami-kun alone was almost too much to bear. The detective rested his hand on his chin as he tried to calm his pounding heart. 

He tightened his grip on the phone and briefly wondered if he should just hang up. Maybe this conversation wasn’t for him to hear, anyways. Perhaps he was a fool for thinking, even for a second, that he could win Kokichi over. Amami was already his best friend, and they had history together that Saihara could never compete with. And now, Amami-kun had something else that Saihara didn’t. 

The thoughts circled in his head as Kokichi made up some excuse, lying as usual. Saihara sighed as the frustration welled up inside him. Just seconds ago, he had felt so close to Ouma, and now he felt like he meant less than nothing to the small boy. He was completely eclipsed by Amami. 

Saihara was about to hang up the phone; just forget about everything and work through his heartbreak on his own. Giving up on the only person he had ever fallen in love with wouldn’t be easy, but it would certainly be easier than helplessly listening as the object of his love fawned over someone else.  

However, before he could end the call, Amami-kun’s words caught his attention once more. 

“I had something important to tell you before you ran away yesterday…” 

Saihara recognized the tone in Amami-kun’s voice. It was the same tone he had held earlier when he confessed to Ouma-kun.

No matter how hurt he felt, he couldn’t bring himself to just let this happen. Somehow, he was compelled to stop it. 

Even though he had resolved to forget about Ouma, he found himself shooting to his feet and hastily slipping on his shoes. 

Amami-kun was dangerous. There was a small shred of hope in his heart that Ouma might reject him now. After all, Saihara had confessed first. However, if Ouma did reject Amami-kun, what might he do? The tall boy could be quite scary sometimes. 

The detective kept the phone pressed to his ear as he rushed to make his way out the door. He heard the two talking, but he couldn’t make out the words as clearly as he ran up the stairs, panting. 

“...Kichi… love you… mine…” The few words he could hear made his stomach drop. 

_ I’m too late.  _

He didn’t let the thought deter him as he approached the door. He turned the handle sharply, but it was locked. He was filled with dread as he traded his phone for his keys in his pocket, unlocking the door before swinging it open. 

“Ouma-kun!” He breathily shouted. 

Ouma jerked his head towards the sound of his voice with a petrified look on his face. The small boy laid on his bed, propped up on his elbows as Amami hovered above him, pinning him down as he rested between his legs. 

“G-get off of him…!” Saihara felt adrenaline kick in as he raised his voice. Amami-kun sharply glared at him. 

“Saihara-kun, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” Amami slyly replied with a low voice. 

_ This guy really is trouble, after all.  _

His eyes flickered back to the small boy who stared at him with a stunned look in his eyes. It was rare for Ouma to show his true emotions on his face; he must have been truly shaken up. 

“Amami…” Saihara balled his fists as he worked up his courage. “Ouma-kun looks afraid. Get off of him.” 

Amami’s expression faltered at his words, his demeanor changing instantly back to normal. He looked down at the small boy, who said nothing in protest. Amami bit his lip as he backed off of Kokichi, turning to face Saihara. 

“Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but I would  _ never  _ hurt Kokichi.” Despite his words, Amami-kun looked a bit guilty. “You just came at a bad time. I was only telling him that… I love him.” 

The outright admission of his feelings shocked the detective. Shuuichi had figured that the tall boy had feelings for Kokichi for a while, but he seemed to be quite, ‘repressed,’ when it came to acknowledging them. Something had definitely changed, and Shuuichi had an idea of what might have brought it on. He searched his mind for a response after realizing he had just been staring in thought. 

“What about Akamatsu-chan?” His mind instantly went to his friend. Did she know that this was happening? 

“Kaede and I aren’t together anymore. Don’t worry about it, none of this has anything to do with you.” Rantaro became colder at the mention of the girl, and hit Saihara where it hurt with his words. He took an instinctive step back as Rantaro drew closer to him. 

“Because… All you are is Kokichi’s ex-roommate, right?” The way the taller boy spoke made Saihara shiver. His statement was technically accurate, but there was just so much more to it than that. 

The two boys stared unblinkingly at each other, both clearly frustrated. Saihara could feel the tension in every muscle in his body. 

“No. I love Ouma-kun.” He admitted. His chest was so tight that it was hard to breath. Rantaro stared dumbfounded at him. 

“Huh?” Rantaro tilted his head, before growing irate. “You don’t even know him, Saihara-kun. Besides, you  _ hurt  _ Kokichi, so there’s no way I’ll let you have him.” 

“I think I know him a lot better than you want to believe I do.” He boldly proclaimed, standing his ground. 

“I would never hurt Kokichi.” Amami fired back. The two of them were being immature now, but they were fueled on by the other’s remarks nonetheless. 

“That’s not true… You already have!” Saihara retorted, growing increasingly frustrated.

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“You’ve been hiding from your feelings for years, and now that Ouma-kun is finally ready to move on, you suddenly refuse to let him go! Do you not understand how fucked up that is!?” 

“You… You don’t understand anything! How can you just waltz in here and act like you’ve got me and Kokichi completely decoded? What are you even doing here? Just leave us alone!” 

“You don’t own him…! And how can you just tell me to leave him alone; I love him too! I can’t change that! I can’t change the fact that he’s all I ever think about anymore!”

“I don’t care! I’ve loved him all my life, okay!? Just get the hell out of here, or els-” 

“ENOUGH!” 

Both boys jumped at the booming voice that broke their argument into pieces. They turned to face the boy who still sat on the bed, tears streaming down his face. 

Saihara had gotten so carried away he had forgotten Kokichi was sitting right there. His heart sank as he realized the tears were genuine; even if the small boy might lie about them later. 

“Kokichi…” Amami let out a small breath before hastily approaching the boy. However, when the tall boy reached out to touch him, the small boy swatted his hand away. 

“Get out!” He shouted. Both boys were stunned into silence. “Both of you, just… Go.” Kokichi’s voice was hoarse from shouting. The boy was clearly in pain as he weakly commanded them to leave.

“Ouma-kun… I’m sorry.” Saihara only apologized, he knew making excuses wouldn’t help now. Amami seemed distressed, but offered no retort. He grit his teeth as he turned to leave the room. He brushed past the detective on his way out, his face unreadable. 

Saihara sullenly looked at Kokichi once more before turning to exit the room. The boy seemed like he needed some space, and Saihara felt directly responsible for that. 

He shut the door softly behind him. He was greeted by the sight of Amami-kun leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. The taller boy was staring into space while tapping his foot. 

“Why Kokichi, Saihara-kun?” 

“Huh?” Saihara was surprised that Amami was still willing to continue their argument, even now. He sure was persistent. 

“Why did you have to fall in love with him? Why couldn’t it have just been anyone else…?” The tall boy asked, not making eye contact. 

Saihara was taken aback. It seemed Amami wasn’t trying to argue. It didn’t even seem like he was looking for an answer. If anything, he was talking to himself, but Saihara gave a reply regardless. 

“You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with, Amami-kun. Sometimes, someone just unexpectedly comes into your life and changes everything before you know it. I could’ve never guessed I would fall for Ouma-kun when I first met him, and I certainly didn’t do it on purpose. All I know is, it happened, for better or for worse.” Saihara expressed the feelings to the tall boy. He didn’t want to fight with Amami, or make Ouma upset, but he refused to give up now. He was stubborn like that, sometimes.

He simply collected his emotions and gave a genuine smile to Amami-kun. “And I guess that makes us rivals now, huh?”

He wasn’t expecting Amami-kun to take to the idea of having a rival; he seemed far too possessive. The tall boy simply shifted his weight as he walked away without a word. 

Saihara thought about going back inside his room to make sure Ouma was okay, before deciding against it. After a moment, Saihara walked away, heading back to Kaito’s room. 

 

 

-

 

 

Saihara had a hard time getting to sleep that night. He tossed and turned as Kaito snored from the floor. The only one on his mind was Ouma; but it hurt to think that he probably wasn't the only one on Ouma’s mind. 

Or that maybe Ouma wasn’t thinking of him at all. 

It was scary to be in love with someone so hard to read. 

When he thought about Amami-kun, he grew even more anxious. Saihara didn’t think he stood a chance now that the tall boy had confessed his love for Ouma. After all, they were childhood best friends. Not to mention that they had already… 

Saihara shook his head, chasing the thought away. He wanted to remain strong, and such negative thoughts could only drag him down now. 

_ This must be what it feels like to fall for someone you can never have…  _

And yet, the depressing thoughts kept flooding his mind. Would Ouma even bother to give him the time of day now? He could only wait and see, but the painful longing he felt in his chest persisted until he finally fell into a dreamless sleep. 

 

 

-

 

 

He awoke before his alarm even went off the next morning. As he got up to get dressed, his mind returned to thoughts of Ouma. He checked his phone repeatedly, but there was nothing from the small boy. 

“Of course not…” Saihara mumbled to himself. He didn’t know what he had expected. Saihara briefly wondered if he was talking to Amami-kun. 

He felt his will to persevere gradually slipping. 

On his way to class, he met up with Kaito and Maki as usual. As soon as he entered their group, however, their conversation came to a halt. It was obvious that they had been talking about him, but he didn’t press the issue. He didn’t really blame them for judging him. 

However, when he saw Ouma approaching their lab from the corner of his eye, his heart skipped a beat. He had almost expected Ouma to skip class today. 

Seeing the boy on his mind suddenly appear was a bit jarring. However, the boy didn’t even offer him a passing glance as he made his way into the classroom. 

His friends had gone silent, probably holding their breath waiting to see what the small boy would do. 

_ Is Ouma still upset? That’s rare…  _

As class was about to begin, he said some awkward goodbyes to his friends and entered the lab. 

He found Ouma sitting in his usual seat, behind Saihara’s. At least he wasn’t going out of his way to sit far from him; that would hurt. The detective settled himself into his seat, before turning to glance at the small boy. Ouma simply kept his stare straight, not faltering to meet the detective’s eyes.

Ouma’s face was completely content. He wore a small smile and his eyes were bright and attentive as he took notes. Even though Ouma tended to lie using his face, Saihara couldn’t help but be convinced. 

_ Why was he so happy-looking? Could it be that he and Amami have already made up? Maybe he doesn’t even need me anymore…   _

Saihara felt anxiety creeping all over his body. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing. The prickling sensation of fear in his veins wasn’t gone, but it was slowly dulling as he collected himself. He opened his eyes once more to focus on the board. He just needed to make it through this class, and then they could talk. 

...But, what if he doesn’t want to talk?

The uneasiness rested in the back of his mind as he did his best to concentrate on the lecture. 

The next hour dragged on in what felt like slow-motion. Saihara anxiously tapping his pen against his desk as he checked the time every few seconds. He could hardly understand a word the professor was saying, but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. 

Finally, the hour was up, and the professor dismissed the class. Saihara felt a weight lifted off his shoulders as he got up and turned around to face Ouma. 

However, all he saw was an empty seat. He looked around but saw no trace of the boy as everyone else filed out of the room. 

There was no way he could’ve gotten out that quickly on crutches. He must have left in the middle of the lecture, and Saihara hadn’t even noticed because he was too busy stressing. 

He felt the weight drop back onto his shoulders as he stared at the empty desk. 

 

 

-

 

 

Saihara sat on his old bed in the empty room as he tried to steady his breathing. 

He had gone through the rest of his classes with thoughts heavy on his mind. He couldn’t concentrate during a single class, but showed up for his attendance anyways.

After his final class, he had went to the bathroom to collect his thoughts. That was where he decided he would give Ouma one last shot. If this didn’t work out, he promised himself that he would have to move on. He couldn’t keep playing these games forever; it was bad for his health. 

So he sat in Ouma’s, and his, room as he waited for the small boy to arrive

He was expecting to have some time to himself to think over what he would say to the boy, as Ouma was always out until nighttime. However, the door to the room slowly creaked open only minutes after Saihara had arrived. 

He wasn’t ready. 

All the panic and anxiety from earlier flooded back as he met eyes with the small boy.    
  
"Ouma... we nee-"    
  
"I swear to God if you say 'we need to talk' ONE more time...!" Ouma tossed his crutches onto the floor and closed the door. 

Saihara was relieved that he wasn’t being kicked out, but was still completely overcome by the unexpected appearance of the boy he loved. 

Saihara's eyes seemed distant, as if he was staring at something that wasn't there. He stumbled onto his feet with panicky breaths as all of his insecurities and worries finally spilled over. Every thought plaguing his mind began to consume him as he felt the adrenaline spike, the familiar but unwelcome feeling of fear spreading like a fire across his body. Ouma seemed to realize something was seriously wrong. 

"Saihara-chan?" He questioned the detective, but the distressed boy simply put his hands over his ears and shook his head repeatedly. The detective began to shiver with fear as he attempted to block out his senses. He needed to get a grip. If he had a panic attack in front of Ouma, he really would have no chance with him. The thought only fueled the fire, and Saihara wasn’t strong enough to fight it as tears pricked the corners of his eyes.    
  
The detective shook violently as his breathing stuttered, he stared with wide-open eyes at the floor. The world felt like it was crashing down around him. He heard a thumping noise, like someone was hopping across the floor.    
  
"Saihara-chan, hey..." Ouma reached out a hand to place on Saihara's chin, but the detective shrugged him away. 

_ Oh my God, why did I do that? What’s wrong with me? _

Ouma was trying to comfort him, and he had pushed him away. He hadn’t meant to, but the reaction was instinctive. 

_ He’ll never love you.  _

_ He already loves Amami-kun.  _

_ Amami-kun is so much better than you.  _

_ What are you even doing here?  _

_ You look like an idiot.  _

_ It’s all because you’re so stubborn. _

_ You can never be with him.  _

_ Falling for him was pointless.   _

_ How humiliating.  _

_ He hates you now.  _

"Saihara-chan, what happened?" The small boy spoke loudly and clearly. He didn’t sound mad, but Saihara’s mind convinced him that he was.    
  
"D-don't know... Nothing, I don't know!" Saihara choked out the words in a panic, and Ouma sighed heavily. 

Nothing had  _ happened  _ per se. This was just an unfortunate circumstance of Saihara’s life. He had anxiety, and that meant he had anxiety attacks. He didn’t expect Ouma to understand. 

He didn’t expect him to understand the turmoil in his mind when he thought of how dangerous loving Ouma was. He knew he might have his heart shattered into pieces at any moment. He knew Amami-kun would never let them be together without a fight; he knew his friends would never accept Ouma as the one he loved. It was all so overwhelming as tears began to spill over, Saihara involuntarily whimpered in defeat.    
  
"Uh..." Ouma sounded unsure of himself. "Hey, look." Ouma waved to get the boy's attention. The detective looked up at him with desperation as he sobbed, he knew he had blown his last chance. He was expecting to see a hateful glare, telling him to get out of his room. 

"Everything is okay, okay?" The statement caused Saihara to stop momentarily, eyes widening at the small boy. 

_ Is he… trying to comfort me…? But, why? _   
  
"Saihara, you're fine. Everything is gonna be fine." 

The boy’s strangely soothing words caused him to stop sobbing for a moment. However that’s when Saihara remembered; Ouma was a liar. That’s all this was. It was a lie.    
  
"No... it's not... Everything is wrong!" Saihara sobbed back at him. How can he possibly say everything is alright? He knows better than anyone that nothing is alright. Amami was going to take him away, and Saihara would be completely forgotten. He wouldn’t even be able to keep Ouma as a friend. He had never been in love before, but if this was how it was, he wished he never had fallen for the small boy. 

_ No, that’s wrong. How can you say that?  _

He glanced up at the boy through teary eyes. His perfectly symmetrical face was twisted into a concerned expression. 

How could he wish to not love this boy? He loved him with everything he had, and he loved every flaw and imperfection that made him who he was. He wanted to be by his side, always, even if he could never have him. He wanted… to be comforted by him. He needed that.    
  
"Shhh... it's fine, I promise." Ouma tried once again to touch Saihara, this time he ran his fingers through his hair. Saihara didn't push him away this time. Ouma continued to coo optimistic words and happy thoughts to Saihara. Eventually, the detective started to believe them. Maybe a liar like Ouma was just what he needed in times like these. 

The tears ran dry as Saihara’s breathing began to even out. He nudged his face into Ouma’s hands, which silently played with the boy's soft hair. The detective stared dejectedly into the small boys eyes as he steadied himself.    
  
"I'm sorry..." He whispered, feeling embarrassed as he came down from his panic. He expected Ouma to tease or laugh it off, but he didn’t.   
  
"Don't be." He shrugged as if what had happened was no big deal. In response, Saihara's expression melted into one of comfort as he sniffled. The taller boy suddenly closed the gap between them by wrapping his arms tightly around Ouma. The small boy made a puzzled noise as his hands splayed against the detective’s chest. He could probably feel his still-racing heartbeat, but that was okay. 

Saihara actually felt pretty tall when they stood like this, especially when he nuzzled his face against the top of Ouma's head. The embrace was warm and Saihara let his eyes slip closed in comfort as his heartbeat slowed back to normal.    
  
Saihara led their bodies backwards, colliding with the bed. They tumbled down together, their fall broken by the soft blankets. Ouma looked up curiously at the detective, unsure of what he wanted. Saihara merely tightened his grip on the boy as he slowly took in deep breaths.    
  
Saihara had worn himself out, and all he wanted was to hold Ouma close. A few minutes of silence passed. The only sound was their beating hearts and soft breathing. Saihara realized just how much he adored the boy in his arms as he gently rubbed circles into his soft, pale skin. He wanted to be the one to protect him, and give him the world. He couldn’t give up on Ouma, no matter what. 

“Saihara-chan?” Ouma broke the silence. 

“Hm?” Saihara faintly responded, not trusting his voice to be stable enough yet. 

“Why do you even love someone like me?” The small boy asked as he began to unravel himself from the detective’s arms. Saihara felt empty at the loss as Ouma sat up on the bed, staring out the window. “I’m… the worst.” 

Saihara sat up too, staring at the boy who spoke the dismal words. The light from the sunset illuminated his face, causing Saihara’s breath to hitch. He was so beautiful. His crystalline purple eyes shimmered as they reflected the colors of the sky. He looked like a beautiful porcelain doll sitting on a shelf; if Saihara reached out to touch him, he feared he might break.  

“That’s a lie, Ouma-kun.” Saihara began. “I love you because you’re beautiful, inside and out. You’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re not worth loving, but that can’t be true. You have many people in your life who love you, not just me. It’s okay to not be perfect you know; none of us are. I still love you, no matter what, because you’re the just the one my heart chose to fall for. I can’t really explain it any better than that… Sorry.” Saihara poured his thoughts out, leaving himself vulnerable to the boy. He felt that it needed to be said, however. 

Ouma stared thoughtfully out the window for a few more seconds, before finally reacting to the detective’s words. He snorted, 

“That’s so cheesy.” 

While that was true, there was a hint of genuine hope in his voice. He hoped that maybe one day Ouma would be able to see himself through his eyes. Loving himself, even with all of his imperfections. 

“Just to be clear, you know I love Amami-chan, right?” Ouma deadpanned. 

The words stung, but truthfully, Saihara did know that already. Hearing them from Ouma’s mouth was much more bitter, however. 

“Y-yeah… I know.” Saihara admitted dejectedly. 

“But…” Ouma sighed. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you, my beloved Saihara-chan.” The detective jumped at the words. That wasn’t necessarily a confession, but Saihara wanted to take it as one. Ouma lifted himself off the bed

“Ahh jeez, what a mess. I’m in love with two different boys! Do you still think I’m not a terrible person, Saihara-chan?” 

Saihara was partly saddened by the statement, but he also felt his heart leap into his throat at the admission. 

“Ouma-kun…? You-” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t read into it too much, Mr. Detective!” Ouma picked up one of his crutches and a bag from the floor and began to head towards the door. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Saihara called after him. 

“Kiibo and Iruma want my help with their dumb project. I only came by to pick up some stuff. Feel free to stay here; or don’t.” Ouma suddenly turned cold as he made his way out the door. 

As soon as the small boy’s presence disappeared, Saihara felt himself overcome with sadness. He wasn’t sure if they had just gone forwards or backwards. 

All he knew was, now that Ouma was gone, he felt empty. Maybe he was growing dangerously attached to the boy as well. 

 

 

-

 

 

As the detective walked back to his room, he was met with a familiar face as he turned the stairwell. Light green eyes widened as they met his own. 

“Amami-kun?” 

“...Saihara.” 

Well, this was awkward.

Saihara fidgeting nervously as he examined the taller boy from the corner of his eye. He carried a small bag of take-out food and a grape soda in his hands. Saihara felt his chest tighten as he realized where the boy was going. 

“Ouma-kun just left.” He stated. He wasn’t trying to antagonize Amami-kun, but he realized it must have come off that way when the tall boy gave him a livid look. 

“How do you know that?” Amami-kun glowered at him, and it sent chills down the detective’s spine. 

“We were just talking.” Saihara explained himself, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

Amami’s head turned towards the floor, his hair hanging in front of his face. He started to laugh slightly. Saihara was confused about what was so funny, until Amami started walking towards the detective. Then he realized nothing was funny at all; absolutely nothing. 

He felt his back hit the wall as Amami approached him, not stopping as he crept closer and closer. Saihara held his breath when he felt Amami’s hand rest against his collarbones. 

“Eh..?” Saihara made a confused noise at the contact. 

“Saihara-kun, are you going home for the holiday?” 

The detective was absolutely dumbstruck at the question. This was extremely bizarre. Amami seemed to be acting more erratic than usual. 

“Uh, yeah I suppose I am… Why?” Saihara answered cautiously as he eyed the boy. His head was still facing downwards, hiding his expression. 

“Ah… I’m so glad.” Amami responded lowly. That was when Saihara realized the hand on his collarbones had crept up to his neck. The detective stiffened as Amami raised his head to make eye contact. 

The look on the boy’s face made Saihara go cold. His face was clouded by shadows from the dim lighting of the staircase, and his eyes were completely void of emotion. He only smiled emptily at Saihara. 

“‘Cause you see…” The taller boy began. “I didn’t want to go home, but my dad says I have no choice.” Saihara wasn’t sure why Amami was sharing this information with him, but he was desperate to escape this tense situation. He tentatively reached a hand up to grasp Amami-kun’s wrist. 

That was a mistake. 

Amami’s hand constricted around Saihara’s throat. He felt the air forced out of his lungs as he tried to gasp. His nails dug painfully into the skin of Saihara’s neck, and he felt the blood being cut off tightly. He dug his fingers into Amami-kun’s wrist, attempting to wrench him away. 

“I wasn’t done talking…” Amami-kun dropped his fake smile as he slightly loosened his hold on the detective’s neck. Saihara stopped struggling as the air refilled his lungs. He looked with terrified eyes into Amami’s face, but found no shred of emotion. 

He briefly wondered if he was about to die. 

“I just thought it would be a real shame if you were staying here on campus. After all, Ouma isn’t going home. I don’t know what I would do if the two of you were left alone here…” 

Saihara was terrified for his safety. However, even though Amami’s words were phrased like a threat, he didn’t sound very threatening at all. In fact, he sounded genuinely sad. He might even feel sorry for the boy if he hadn’t just tried to strangle him. After all, they were currently in the same boat. 

“Amami-kun…” Saihara breathily forced the words out. “I can’t breathe.” 

But the boy didn’t respond to him. He only stared off into space with a troubled look. 

Saihara was against violence, but as Amami-kun’s hands slowly began to tighten once more, he figured he was out of options. 

He removed his hand from Amami’s wrist and balled it into a fist. The detective used his fleeting strength jam his fist into Amami-kun’s stomach. 

The taller boy lost his breath at the impact, his fingers unfurling from the shorter boy’s neck momentarily. Saihara took the opportunity to escape, darting away from Amami-kun. 

He didn’t look back as he kept running down the stairs towards Kaito’s room. 

There was no doubt in his mind anymore. 

He couldn’t let someone so dangerous be with Ouma-kun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unu. 
> 
> Also I made a new Instagram account (one that isn't personal) I post some cosplay pics and fic updates on my story there so come follow me if you're interested! This is where I'm most active now anyways
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/vriskabby/
> 
> See you soon~


	22. Resentment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again~ Another long wait, but im less sorry this time (lots of personal stuff going on irl!)  
> Also looking at the stats for this fic im honestly amazed??? I was so blown away when this got to 1000 hits, now its at well over 10000! Thank you all so much. 
> 
> And thank you for all the comments as well, even the negative ones, lol. 
> 
> warning for domestic abuse this chapter!!

“Hey, Amami-chan~! What’s up?”

The door opened wide to reveal Ouma smiling brightly at him. The sight calmed Rantaro’s beating heart a bit, before he remembered that he heard Kokichi’s voice prior to knocking on the door.

“Who were you talking to just now…?” Amami asked, his eyes darting around the empty room. He was relieved that he didn’t see Saihara-kun in the room, like he had expected to.

“Hm? Oh, just myself!” Kokichi replied casually. Amami was a bit suspicious, but decided not to push his luck right now. After all, he had come here for something very important. Kokichi stepped aside to let Amami in, and he entered quietly.

“I had something important to tell you before you ran away yesterday…” Amami began as he shut and locked the door behind him. Kokichi quirked an eyebrow at him, the tall boy biting his lip nervously.

Even though Kokichi had confessed to him before in the past, would he still feel the same way now? Especially with Saihara…

He chased the insecurities from his mind before approaching the boy. He had been in love with Kokichi for such a long time, locking up his feelings so tightly that he hadn’t even realized they were there. He reached his hands to cup Kokichi’s round face.

Kokichi’s lip pouted as Rantaro brushed his thumbs against his soft skin.

“Kokichi…” Rantaro softly called out to the boy. He felt the boy’s cheeks heating up. Before he knew it he guided the boy back towards the bed. They fell onto the soft surface, the bed springs squeaking as Rantaro settled his weight, hovering over the small boy.

“Ah…” Kokichi let out a surprised noise as he stared with wide eyes at Rantaro.

“I love you…” The words helplessly spilled from the taller boy’s mouth, “Not like a friend, though. I… want you to be mine.”

Kokichi’s eyes widened at his confession. The small boy seemed to be at a loss for words. Rantaro leaned closer to the boy, brushing their lips together lightly. Kokichi’s wide eyes began to flutter closed, but before Rantaro could press their lips together fully, he heard the door handle abruptly rattle, shaking considerably.

Ouma let out a gasp before quickly picking himself up, nearly slamming their heads together.

“Ouma-kun!” An unwelcome voice suddenly rang out through the room. Amami immediately recognized the voice as Saihara-kun’s as he turned his gaze towards the door. His brows furrowed as he stared in confusion at the detective.

Why was he here? He was interrupting something important…

“G-get off of him…!” The detective seemed distressed.

_So annoying._

“Saihara-kun, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” Amami half-joked back at the detective. Who did he think he was, barging in here now of all times? After all, Kokichi was his now. His heart and his body had already been claimed by him, Saihara had no place here.

“Amami…Ouma-kun looks afraid. Get off of him.”

Amami was snapped out of his thoughts at the word ‘afraid.’ He snapped his eyes to the small boy under him. His eyes were slightly watery, his mouth agape, and his brows furrowed. Some might say he looked afraid, but Amami recognized his expression as being hurt.

Amami felt a rush of fear at the thought of Kokichi being hurt. He had promised the small boy he would never let anyone hurt him; not then, not now, and not ever. So why was he looking at him like that?

He gave in, removing himself from between the boy’s legs to face the intruder.

“Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but I would never hurt Kokichi. You just came at a bad time. I was only telling him that… I love him.” Amami admitted, slightly unsure of himself.

Saihara continued to argue with Amami, until the taller boy felt his frustrations building. The detective brought up Akamatsu, but Amami was quick to shoot him down. He didn’t want to think about the girl right now; it was a bit painful.

Then, Saihara did something unexpected.

“No. I love Ouma-kun.”

Amami felt overcome with alarm at the boy’s statement. He didn’t know why he felt so threatened by his words, but it made him feel pathetic. Almost as pathetic as he felt when he couldn’t protect Ouma. He felt far away, watching from a distance as the boy he loved was grew further and further away; and he was helpless to stop it.

He raised his voice, desperately trying to regain control.

“You’ve been hiding from your feelings for years, and now that Ouma-kun is finally ready to move on, you suddenly refuse to let him go! Do you not understand how fucked up that is!?”

The words felt like a slap to the face, ringing continuously in his head long after they were spoken. Amami wanted to fight it, but he couldn’t think of a damn thing to say to prove him wrong. A disgusted feeling settled in his stomach at the thought that he might be right. Rantaro only felt his grip on his emotions slipping as he struggled with the thought.

He and Saihara continued to raise their voices and throw childish words back and forth until they were interrupted by the subject of their argument. Kokichi shouted, causing a silence to fall upon the room.

When Rantaro turned to face him, seeing the shimmer of tears on the boy’s cheeks. He acted on impulse, rushing to the small boy’s side. He tried to grab his hand before being pushed away.

“Get out!” Kokichi screamed the words, looking directly into Rantaro’s eyes. The taller boy felt a sharp pain in his chest at the rejection. Kokichi had never pushed him away like this before; he had always relied on him when he was distressed in the past. Rantaro desperately wanted to help the boy, he hated to see him crying more than anything; yet now he was being pushed away.

Maybe Kokichi didn’t need him like he used to anymore.

He didn’t know what else to do but give Kokichi the space he wanted. Maybe it was fine to not coddle him like he used to. After all, their relationship would surely change if they began to date each other.

Even so, the rejection still stung his pride as he turned to walk out the door.  

 

 

-

 

 

Amami sat on his bed in his dark and quiet room, fingers laced together as he thoughtfully stared at the floor. Saihara had called him his ‘rival’ earlier. The word was stuck in Amami’s head, but more than that, Saihara’s good-natured smile and heartfelt tone.

Amami knew one thing for sure; he didn’t _want_ a rival for Kokichi’s affection, so why did Saihara so cheerfully suggest the thought? The taller boy hadn’t realized how hard he had been biting his lip until he tasted the copper liquid in his mouth. He winced, flicking his tongue over the wound.

He had been losing control of his senses lately. Whenever he thought of Saihara-kun vying for the small boy’s affections, it was as if certain parts of his body took on a mind of their own. It concerned him, but not as much as the thought of losing the love of his life.

If they were rivals, then this was a game; and if this was a game, Amami-kun did not intend to lose.

He knew just how to get the upper hand, too. His eyes shifted to the phone on his bedside table.

He had been rehearsing his lines for a while now, but he had a feeling he would forget all of that as soon as he dialed his father’s number.

There weren’t many things that intimidated him, but unfortunately, his father was one of them. He and his father had a very strained relationship, they didn’t see eye to eye on many things. His father held very strong opinions; to the point of lashing out if proven wrong.

Amami tried to avoid the thought, but he couldn’t deny the facts. His father was going to hate him because of his feelings for Kokichi. That was another reason he didn’t want to go home for the upcoming holiday.

He had been scrolling through his contacts before finally arriving at his father’s number. They didn’t talk often, in fact, he hadn’t called once.

It shouldn’t be so nerve wracking to call your own father, probably.

He took a deep breath before pressing the call button. He gripped the phone tightly in his hand as he pressed it against his face, the first ring sounding out.

He waited in anticipation as the phone rang continuously. For a moment, Rantaro thought his father wasn’t going to answer. The idea made him feel relieved, maybe it would be better to just leave a voicemail. However, the thought was shattered as he heard the last ring interrupted by the sound of his father’s voice.

_“Hello?”_

A stern, formal tone greeted him. It was cold and almost unfamiliar.

“H-hello?” Amami jumped to straighten his posture, even though his father couldn’t see him. He hated that he had stuttered, his father had no doubt taken notice.

“Rantaro, how are you?” His father went straight to the formalities, but Rantaro wasn’t exactly in the mood to pretend.

“I’m okay. Listen, I don’t think I’ll be making it home for Thanksgiving this year. Tell mom and the girls i’m sorry, it’s just that-”

 _“Now hold on just a minute! Slow down… you can’t seriously be thinking of missing out on visiting home? There’s no way your mother is going to stand for that.”_ The

“Dad, can you please just listen to me? I have my reasons, okay?”

 _“Watch your tone, I raised you better than this.”_ The man’s patience was clearly wearing thin, but Rantaro couldn’t show any sign of weakness lest he lose any chance of being treated as an adult.

“I need to stay on campus to take care of Kokichi, he broke his foot and is still recovering. Everyone else is going home.” Rantaro felt his chest tighten at the silence that followed. His father hated Kokichi with a passion, and he despised the fact that Rantaro considered him his best friend. He heard his father take in a deep breath.

_“Now listen to me, son. If you think for one second that I’m going to let you miss out on seeing your family so that you can babysit that little-”_

Rantaro felt himself snap as he anticipated his father’s words. He had heard that word so many times before, always used with such a disgusted tone and sneering looks. The one word that had held so much power over him throughout all these years.

“Little what, dad? _Faggot?”_ Rantaro spat the words out, denying his father the satisfaction. It was almost therapeutic to hear the word he feared come out of his own mouth. It felt like he had conquered it somehow. “Well, guess what? That little ‘faggot’ is my best friend, and I’m going to stay by his side when he needs me. I don’t care what you think anymore.” He felt himself growing bolder with every word. It felt great to say those words, and truly mean them.

However, he might have gotten a bit too daring.

_“You’d better watch your fuckin’ mouth, son. Not only are coming back home for Thanksgiving, but it sounds like I’m gonna have to teach you about respect all over again.”_

He felt his confidence take a blow from the threat, but his dad wasn’t here right now, so he couldn’t hurt him.

“I’m not a child anymore, dad! You can’t force me to go home if I don’t want to! That’s not your decision to make!” He picked himself up off the bed and began pacing around the room as he raised his voice. His father only loudened his own voice in response.

_“Don’t you fuckin’ pull that shit with me, Rantaro! You wanna be an adult? Act like one! You don’t call the shots here, got it? I’ll see to it that your train is booked and you’re packed and ready to go by the end of the week.”_

Rantaro felt his blood boiling as he listened.

“Oh, yeah? And how do you plan on doing that?” He tested.

_“Akamatsu-chan is more of an adult than you’ll ever be. Only reason I let you chase your little friend off to college was because that girl was going to be there to keep an eye on you. Turns out, I was right.”_

Rantaro froze. He was planning on asking Kaede for help? If he did that… He would find out about their breakup.

Uncertainty swirled in the tall boy’s mind. On one hand, he wanted his father to know about him and Kokichi. On the other hand, however, he didn’t want him to ever find out. It was confusing, and honestly terrifying thinking about the repercussions.

All he knew for sure was he didn’t want him to find out like _that._

“No.” Rantaro lowered his voice in defeat. “Just… I’ll come home, okay? Just leave Kaede out of this, please.”

Moments ago, he had felt so strong. Now, all the courage he had built up had come crashing down to weakness. The same sickening weakness he had always felt when he bent to his father’s will in the past.

His father was silent for a while, before finally giving a stern response.

_“Good. I’m glad you decided to do this the easy way. See you soon.”_

He hung up without another word.

Impulsively, Rantaro grit his teeth in frustration before heaving his phone across the room. It hit the wall with a hard smack. Even if it broke, he would just buy a new one.

Unfortunately, the action did little to alleviate the heavy feeling in his chest. He slid to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest as he began to cry harder than he ever had in his life.

 

 

-

 

 

Rantaro drudged through the next day with his regrets weighing heavily on his shoulders.  He had been counting down the hours until he could see Kokichi again. He was feeling down because of the argument he had with his father last night, but he knew that seeing the small boy would cheer him up. It always did.

However, Rantaro knew that Kokichi was most likely going to avoid him after classes today. The boy was probably still upset about what happened yesterday. Normally, Rantaro would’ve walked him to class in the morning regardless of whether or not the small boy complained about it, but now he felt a little differently.

He would never stop wanting to protect and watch over Kokichi, but he realized he had been treating Kokichi like a child for some time now. Rantaro hated it when people, like his father, didn’t believe he could make his own choices, so it wasn’t fair to assume the same thing of Kokichi. If Kokichi wanted space, he would heed his request.

Though he couldn’t help but wonder if he was on Kokichi’s mind as much as the small boy was on his own. Or maybe he was thinking about Saihara instead.

The thought stung. He desperately wanted to be the only one on Kokichi’s mind again. He only ever wanted Kokichi to look at him.

Rantaro leaned against the wall of Kokichi’s final class just before the door swung open and chattering students began to file out. The lines of students began to thin out as Rantaro’s eyes scanned for the boy he was looking for. Eventually, the small boy made his way through the door last, using a single crutch to support his weight.

Kokichi seemed to instantly recognize the other boy from the corner of his eye, stopping in his tracks as he turned to meet his gaze. Rantaro gave the boy a tight smile before shifting his weight off the wall.

“Hey.” He could only muster a small greeting as the boy’s violet eyes stared blankly at him, not a single emotion crossing the small boy’s face. He hated that Kokichi was so good at doing that. Rantaro managed a chuckle as he brought a hand back to rest against his neck. His own skin felt too hot, like he was going to overheat.

“Still mad at me, I see?”

Rantaro desperately wanted to pull the boy in and just hold him. Even if Kokichi might hit him or argue, he just wanted to feel his warmth. More than anything, he wanted to feel their lips colliding again as they got undressed together.

Rantaro shook the last thought from his head, unsure why he was thinking of something like that now. After all, he had come here to tell Kokichi that he would have to leave for the holiday. He would’ve just texted the boy to avoid making him resent him even more for not giving him the space he asked for, but as it turns out, he had completely destroyed his phone last night.

It’s fine, though. He would just buy a new one.

“Kokichi… stop staring at me like that…” Rantaro pleaded. The small boy’s face was still completely blank as he waited expectantly for Rantaro to get to the point. If Rantaro was anyone else, Kokichi probably would've already picked up a new mask and begun acting as if everything was fine. Right now, however, it was just the two of them in the now-empty hall.

“Like what?” Kokichi finally replied, tilting his head slightly.

“Like…” Rantaro began to close the distance between them. “Like you don’t have any feelings for me at all…” Rantaro felt so unsure of himself as he spoke the words. He silently feared the small boy’s response to his bold claim.

Kokichi scoffed, finally dropping his poker face. Rantaro immediately held his breath as Kokichi began to speak.

“Aww… My poor, beloved Rantaro. It must really suck to like someone so much but know that they’ll never like you back, huh?”

Rantaro felt his heart plummet. He furrowed his brows as the boy continued.

“I know just what you’re thinking. ‘Oh, It’s not fair! I only want his eyes to be on me! Why am I not good enough for him...?’” As Kokichi spoke, he seemed to mock Rantaro as he dramatically pretended to cry. It was all true, though. It was as if Kokichi yanked the words right out of his mind. “Right?” Kokichi dropped his act, smiling cheerfully.

_He… doesn’t like me back after all? No… But…_

“Aww, what’s wrong, Rantaro? You look so lost.” Kokichi leaned in closer to the taller boy, lowering his voice slightly. “That was all just a lie, anyway.”

Rantaro felt the pangs of pain replaced by a rush of anger at the boy’s admission.

“Kokichi, that’s not funny.” Rantaro gripped the boy’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “You need to stop playing with people’s emotions…”

“You didn’t mind me ‘playing with people’s emotions’ when you were _fucking_ me.” Kokichi gave a dark smirk as Rantaro’s breath hitched.

“Kokichi…!” Rantaro exclaimed in shock before Kokichi gave out his signature giggle, swiveling around on his good foot. Rantaro fell speechless as he watched the boy grow further and further away, his words still ringing in the tall boy’s head.

Before he realized it, his vision went blurry with tears. That conversation had gone very wrong somehow, and Rantaro vaguely remembered that he didn’t even get around to telling Kokichi what he had wanted to tell him.

He felt the need to punch something because of the disappointment he felt with himself. He made his way towards the nearest bathroom, spitefully wiping away the tears on his cheeks as he shoved the door open.

Where had he gone so wrong?

 

 

-

 

 

“We shouldn’t be here, we’re gonna get in so much trouble.” Rantaro whispered cautiously as Ouma knelt down before the door, picking at the lock with skilled precision.  

“Oh c’mon, this isn’t even the _most_ illegal thing we’ve done. Remember that time when we got high and snuck into the theater to watch the Emoji Movie?”

Rantaro snorted. “That’s different. That movie was a masterpiece.” The taller boy attempted to justify himself. “Besides, this is actual breaking and entering, y’know.”

“That’s not true! I’m not breaking anything! This is just entering!” The lock clicked open as Kokichi snickered. Rantaro rolled his eyes as the boy opened the door for him. “After you!”

“If we go to jail, i’m not paying your bail.”

“That rhymes!”

Rantaro chuckled as the two of them made their way into the empty building. All the lights were off, creating a dangerous atmosphere in the darkness. Rantaro felt immature, but he was a little afraid of the darkness.

As if on cue, Kokichi wrapped his hand in the taller boy’s, intertwining their fingers.

“Relax, I’ll protect you from any ghosts that try to eat you or whatever.” The warmth of the small boy’s hand caused Rantaro to shiver a bit. He squeezed back, appreciating the concern. After all, every touch that the two of them shared was treated like a gift after Rantaro had almost lost his best friend a few months back.

He let their hands linger together for a while longer, before the small boy jumped up ahead, thoroughly examining the dark hallway of the building.

“Yep! Just as I thought, this wing of the school is too old and decrepit to have a proper security system.” Kokichi happily danced about, making his way towards the large set of doors at the end of the hallway. Not wanting to be left behind, Rantaro jogged to catch up with him.

He helped the small boy open the heavy door, revealing the sparkling water glistening in the dim moonlight. The pool was well-maintained, despite rarely being used anymore. The building they had ‘broken’ into was the school’s old gymnasium. The room was filled with large, open windows that let in the light from the moon and the streetlights outside. It was a bit breathtaking at night, honestly.

“Yeah, I think this place will do just fine.” Kokichi hummed to himself. Rantaro glanced over at the boy.

The light illuminated his pale complexion as he tried to hide a subtle smile, the water reflecting in his eyes. Rantaro couldn’t help but reach out and ruffle the small boy’s hair. He was just too damn cute.

“Yeah, I don’t mind it.” Rantaro commented as he approached the edge of the pool, crouching down to stare at his reflection.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m now tempted to push you into the entire pool.” Kokichi remarked from behind him.

“Do it. I’ll just drag you in with me, after all.”

The two of them bantered back and forth for a while, enjoying the solitude of being away from everyone else. They had come here to scope out a possible hideout for the organization they had been planning on starting for a while. They already had a name, a uniform, and a handful of members lined up. Kokichi had big dreams when it came to this organization, which he named ‘DICE.’

For now, though, their secret organization would just be a school club. That was good enough for Rantaro though, as long as Kokichi was happy.

Kokichi eventually joined the taller boy by the poolside. The two of them sat side by side, dipping their feet into the water and splashing at each other as they talked about their plans. Eventually, it got so late that Kokichi suggested they should go home, yawning from exhaustion.

Rantaro wouldn’t admit it to the small boy, but he didn’t want to go home tonight. In all honesty, he had been getting drunk off the small boy’s laughter, every touch sending electricity down his spine. It was… a little strange; but it felt good, and he didn’t want it to end. In fact, he wanted to go home with Kokichi instead.

His father and him weren’t exactly getting along lately, so he wouldn’t mind staying out as late as possible. However, if he stayed out too late he ran the risk of being caught. He somewhat reluctantly agreed to going home, but not a second later he felt a hand press hard against his back. He cried out as he lost his balance, falling forward into the cold water. From the water he heard his best friend’s distinctive laugh ringing out almost maniacally.

After his senses recovered from the surprise, he opened his eyes to stare down at the bottom of the pool. His clothes were going to be soaked, and his hair ruined, yet he found himself smiling. He let out a laugh, bubbles floating to the surface before he turned around to see the outline of Kokichi’s feet still bobbing into the water.

He was just asking for trouble.

Rantaro reached out a hand, grasping Kokichi’s foot before pulling him into the water. He let out a breathless laugh as he heard the boy shriek above him, falling into the water with a splash. Rantaro was running out of air, forced to return to the surface as he took in deep breaths.  

He felt small hands push against his shoulders as Kokichi resurfaced for air as well. The boy laughed, clearly winded.

“What the...hell! You… Jerk!” The boy chastised him playfully through breaths.

“You… started it!” Rantaro panted back, chuckling at how stupid they were being. Rantaro hated people who acted immature, yet he always found himself behaving like a child with his best friend.

“Bullshit! That was just an accident, dummy.” Kokichi lied. The small boy suddenly lurched forward, wrapping his arms around Rantaro’s neck. Kokichi clinging to him like that made it much harder to stay afloat, but Rantaro didn’t mind. He only smiled and wrapped an arm around the boy’s slender waist, pressing a soft kiss into the boy’s wet hair.

“Hey, Amami-chan, guess what?” The boy began, face nuzzled into Rantaro’s neck.

“Hmm?” Rantaro answered back.

“I love you.”

The two boys no longer made their attachment to each other a secret to anyone, especially not each other. Rantaro was perfectly fine with that, that was the promise he had made to the small boy. Yet, he was still getting used to the strange feeling that overwhelmed him whenever Kokichi would get so close to him, or say such heartfelt words so suddenly. It wasn’t a feeling he hated, in fact it felt quite good, but he didn’t really understand it.

Maybe one day, he would understand, but for now he simply replied with the one thing he understood perfectly.

“I love you too, Kokichi.”

The two of them crawled their way out of the pool, sopping wet from head to toe. They pointed and laughed at each other before sneaking back out of the building, making sure to erase any trace they may have left behind. It would suck if someone found out they had broken in and installed better security in the building, so they would have to be careful.

With that being said, they could borrow any towels. Amami wanted to cry for the seats in his car, or rather, his father’s car, as they rung out their clothes to the best of their abilities before climbing into the car. He had ‘borrowed’ his father’s car for their little excursion, and Amami prayed that his father wouldn’t notice anything unusual.

Amami drove them back to their neighborhood, pulling into his own driveway. He said goodbye and watched to make sure the boy got back into his house safely, chuckling slightly as he watched his friend squeeze into his room through his window. He felt the slight urge to follow after him, but he chased away the thought.

He tried to remain light on his feet as he crept up to his doorway. The drive from the school to his house was unfortunately short, so he hadn’t had much time to air dry. At least he was no longer dripping wet.

He pulled out his keys, unlocking the door at an agonizingly slow pace. Every sound made his skin crawl as he turned the key until the lock clicked out of place. He realized he had been holding his breath, letting it out harshly as he began to turn the handle slowly.

He wished he had the luxury of sneaking in through a window like Kokichi, but he happened to live in the only three-story house on the block, with his room being on the top floor.

His breath hitched as the doorknob squeaked before he finally turned it enough to push the door open cautiously. With every creak of the door, he pictured another nail in his coffin. His grip was vice-like on the door handle as he tentatively began to move into the house.

Once inside, he let out a breath he had been holding for some time now. He was so close, he just had to-

The lights of the entryway suddenly flickered on, causing Rantaro to gasp. He swiveled around, praying that he would be met with the face of one of his sisters up for a late-night snack or something. Apparently, God wasn’t listening to requests today.

His father stood with his arms folded sternly across his chest as if he had been waiting for Rantaro for some time now.

_I’m fucking dead._

The tall boy considered just making a break for it.

“So,” His father began nonchalantly. “Where did y’all run off to tonight?”

His tone was so casual that Rantaro felt sick as he closed the door behind him. He seemed to be aware that he hadn’t been alone tonight; maybe he saw Kokichi through the window. This was not good.

“Dad, listen, I-”

“No, no, no. Please, do tell. I’m not interested in excuses, and you know that, son.”

Rantaro nervously bit at his lip, unsure how he should proceed. Should he lie to save his skin? Or was his father just pretending to be oblivious? Actually, he didn’t seem as mad as he thought he would be… Perhaps he should just be honest?

His father had a fiery temper, and was unafraid to unleash it on anyone. However, his favorite target seemed to be his only son. It was strange, Rantaro was very accustomed to being subjected to his father’s wrath, yet he was acting so collected now.

Rantaro dropped his guard just a little.

“Kokichi and I were just...hanging out. I’m sorry, I left without permission.” Rantaro straightened his posture and looked at his feet, trying his best to make the situation seem tame.

“‘Kokichi,’ huh?” He heard his father’s footsteps against the hardwood floors getting gradually closer. Rantaro thought he might catch a break for once, as his father was still acting somewhat sane. He heard his father chuckle as he stopped just in front of him. “Haven’t I told you a million times already that boy is a bad influence on you? Tell me, what’s it gonna take to get that through your head, hm?”

At his father’s words, he raised his head, ready to defend his best friend. However, he froze solid when he met eyes with his father.  The man’s skin was glossed over with sweat, his eyes were beady, and he held an unsettlingly fake smile as he looked down at his son. He only saw murder in his eyes, and Rantaro realized he had made a terrible mistake in letting his guard down.

“And look what happens when you go along with his little tricks…”

That was the last thing Rantaro heard before his father’s fist slammed into his gut. Rantaro spat out as he doubled over from the punch, a pain twisting into his scalp as his father took a fistful of his hair. Before he could react, his head was slammed backwards, colliding with the door. The pain was overwhelming.

Rantaro wasn’t an easy person to assault, but his father always amazed him with how quick and hard his punches were. He was the one person Rantaro was no match for. The tall boy’s head spun from dizziness as he heard someone frantically running down the stairs.

“Honey, wha- Oh my God! Rantaro!” He vaguely heard the sound of his mother’s voice ringing out.

“Go back to bed, darlin’. This boy needs to be taught a lesson.” His father had hit him many times in the past, but this was by far the most violent he had ever gotten with him. “Keep runnin’ around with that fucking cocksucker, you’re gonn’ turn into one.”

“You…” Rantaro felt the pain dissipate as the words sunk in. “You fucking take that back!” Blinded by his own rage, he swung at his father. However, he was much too slow. His balled up fist was caught in his father’s palm before the man swung back at him, his fist connecting violently with his jaw.

Rantaro staggered backwards, feeling blood pooling in his mouth. He felt so powerless. How could he be so weak that his father could just throw him around like a ragdoll?

“Stop it!” He heard his mother desperately shriek, approaching his father. The woman wrapped her arms around the man’s chest, attempting to pull him away from her son. The man whipped around shoved the woman backwards.

“Mo-” Rantaro attempted to call out to his mother, before choking on the blood. He desperately tried to return to his feet, before being sent backwards once more from a kick to the teeth. The blunt force was so powerful he heard nothing but a ringing in his ears.

He felt several more impacts as he his father gripped his shirt, repeatedly landing blows against his face. The adrenaline must have kicked in, because Rantaro could no longer feel any pain other than the shame eating him alive. He heard his mother sobbing in the background as he weakly struggled underneath his father’s weight.

Eventually he lost the strength to fight back, hands falling weakly to his sides, merely twitching with every impact until his father decided the beating was over.

The pain began to surface as the rush wore off, dull pounding in all of his muscles as he lay practically unconscious on the floor. He tried to open his eyes, crimson red from the blood staining his vision.

He heard his mother screaming hysterically at his father as she cried. He heard a loud smack, and the screaming stopped. He wasn't sure who hit who, but he had a good guess. He could only manage to slump against the door.

How could he be so weak?

His eyes wandered to the staircase, where he saw several of his sisters peering down at the scene. He couldn’t see their expressions.

His mother’s weak sobbing began again, quieter now. His father approached him once more, leaning down as if speaking to a toddler.

“You see what you caused? All because you wanna sneak off in the middle of the night with your little pet faggot. This ends tonight, you here me?” The words only twisted the knife in his heart. “Trust me, son. This hurts me more than it hurts you.”

If Rantaro wasn’t in so much pain, he might have laughed at his father’s words. Instead, he mustered up the strength to do the second best thing. He turned his face upwards to meet his father’s gaze, before spitting out the blood in his mouth directly onto his father’s face.

Then his father hit him so hard that he blacked out.

 

-

 

Rantaro grit his teeth tightly as he stared into the mirror of the bathroom. Why did that memory have to come back now of all times? Tears wet his cheeks as rage welled up inside his stomach.

He didn’t want to go back. He was scared.

The thought made him so sick. He was such a coward. After that day, he and his father’s relationship had become broken beyond repair.

When all of his friends at school laughed at him for losing a fight, he only wrote it off with ‘you should see the other guy.’ In truth, he hadn’t landed a single hit on his father. Not then, not ever. He was too weak.

Even after the merciless beating, Rantaro refused to change his stance of Kokichi. He would never abandon him, no matter how much pain it might cause him. You don’t abandon the people you love.

Rantaro thought about the present. If his father really did love him, like he claimed, then he shouldn’t abandon him either, right? Even if he found out that he was gay, too.

Or maybe his father never really loved him at all, and would grow to hate him as much as he hated Kokichi for the same reason. There was a good chance that was all just a part of the act. At a certain age, Rantaro had begun to realize that he lived in a family of liars.

They put on a show for everyone they met. They used their money to buy their way through everything, yet lived in a middle class neighborhood to show off how much better than everyone else they were. They went to church and read their bibles, only to beat their children and wives behind closed doors. It was all just an act, and he was forced to play the part.

One day, his father had sat him down and explained to him that he needed to start taking dating more seriously. He had gone through girlfriends like tissues up until that point. It wasn’t really his intention, he wasn’t a playboy or anything. It’s just that none of them could handle Kokichi, and Kokichi was a part of him.

However, his father had explained that he was the only boy in left in their family tree. Try as his mother had, she hadn’t been able to have more than one son, so his entire family name rested on Amami’s shoulders.

“Our legacy is in your hands, son. I need you to understand what an important role you play for your mother and I. You need to find a good girl, and settle down.”

Amami thought is was all just one giant headache.

However, shortly afterwards, he had met Kaede, and everyone had seemed happy.

Amami choked on a sob as he stared at himself in the mirror. What was his father going to say when he found out what he had done? What was he going to do?

“Oh God…” Rantaro buried his face in his hands, shaking with the urge to punch something. He could act as tough as he wanted, but deep down he would always be a coward.

He balled his fist, crashing it into the hard tile wall. The skin of his knuckles scraped off, replaced by blood.

He ignored the stinging sensation as he used his arm to wipe the tears from his face, making his way out the door.

He made his way out of the building. Cold air sliced against his open wound, but the pain didn’t compare to what he was feeling inside.  

Maybe he should just give up, and go crawling back to Kaede. That’s what everyone wanted, right?

The thought was instantly erased as he caught a glimpse of plum colored haired dancing in the wind. The small boy stood with a melancholy expression just outside the building, as if he had been waiting for Rantaro. Or maybe that’s just what he wanted to believe.

He approached the boy slowly, coughing to alert him of his presence.

“Aren’t you cold?” Rantaro asked, feeling slightly awkward.

The boy only shrugged in response. Rantaro noticed bumps on the boy’s skin, indicating his lie.

Rantaro sighed as he began to remove his jacket, moving to drape it over the small boy’s shoulders. His hands lingered on the boy, before he felt something inside of him break.

He pulled Kokichi’s small frame close, feeling his small back pressed against his chest. He felt the tears returning as he squeezed the boy tightly. That was when he knew he could never give up on this boy; his best friend, his first love.

No matter how much pain it might cause him, no matter who might hate him because of it, he would never stop loving this boy.

“I’m… gonna tell my father. That… I’m gay. That I love you.” The words scared him at first, but as he spoke them out loud he felt his confidence returning. If his father really loved him, he would accept him.

“S’that so?” Kokichi muttered. The boy still seemed listless, causing Amami to grow concerned.

“What’s wrong, Kokichi?”

Kokichi only giggled in response. Amami felt worry start to accumulate, and he felt himself not wanting to let go as Kokichi wriggled out of his arms.

”I just wish…” Kokichi began, his tone full of genuine emotion. “I just wish this would have happened sooner, y’know?” Kokichi’s eyes began to water.

“What do you mean?” Rantaro felt fear running through his veins. Why was Kokichi looking at him like that?

“I mean, it’s just like Saihara-chan said, why did you have to wait until I fell in love with someone else to realize your feelings?”

In that moment, his worst fears had been so casually confirmed.

_‘I fell in love with someone else.’_

_No._

_Why?_

_Please…_

“Sai...hara?” Amami repeated the name, feeling himself disconnect with his own body. “You love...him?” The words were only a whisper.

“I do.”

Amami’s mind started buzz, his body growing numb, his vision dissipating until all he could see was the boy in front of him; his whole world.

He felt like he was going crazy, but he couldn't stop it.

He couldn't lose Kokichi. His world would be over, the pain he endured would’ve been meaningless.

“Why… are you listening to what he says?” Amami asked, his voice lilting with curiosity. Kokichi gave him a strange look, as if the small boy was seeing something unsettling. “He doesn’t know anything, Kokichi. He thinks he knows me, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t understand a damn thing about me, or you, especially not us.”

Saihara was painting him as a villain, and Kokichi was… believing it?  

Rantaro’s thoughts started to scatter, memories and voices flooding his mind all too quickly.

“Maybe not, but he still has a point. I’m going back to my room now. You’re creeping me out, so don’t follow me, got it?”

The boy turned and limped off, disappearing from Rantaro’s vision.

Left only with his parting words, he stared into the darkness that remained.

_You’re creeping me out…_

His entire body felt numb, and he couldn’t even tell what he was feeling anymore. This wasn’t normal. He knew that. But these weren’t normal circumstances either. No one had ever threatened to take Kokichi away from him like this before, not since Kokichi himself tried to take his own life. His nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t feel anything anymore. All he could feel was hate.

He walked unsteadily, almost unconsciously over to the center of the courtyard as his vision began to come back to him. He walked up to the fountain and gazed down into his reflection in the rippling water.

Something about his face felt so foreign to him. Something about it terrified him. He felt the last shred of good judgement slip away as he recognized the face he was staring at.

It was the same face his father had showed him that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES I realize that part about the emoji movie now means that this fic is taking place in the future, NO i do not care. I promised someone important that id put that in there <3)
> 
> So quick side note: This is most likely going to be the final POV switch for this fic! For the rest of the story, we'll be with Ouma the whole way~ These last two chapters have been the final glimpses into the minds of Saihara and Amami, and how different or even similar they are. I hope by now you fully understand both of the boys, and how much they care for Ouma. If not I can no longer help you lol.
> 
> I'd estimate we have about 4-5 more chapters before the ending! As for the double endings.... well i'll talk more about that later. I'll probably end up holding a poll on my instagram after the original ending to see if people want another one? 
> 
> We'll just have to see I guess!


	23. Far From Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! 
> 
> So if you follow me on instagram, you might already know this, but for the past week or so ive been on a sort of mini hiatus. I can't believe it's been so long since i last updated! Basically, last week my boss got sick, so in addition to working my own shifts i had to cover his. It was really stressful and i barely had any time to myself ;-; Anyways, i'm hoping to get back on track now. Wish me luck! 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you guys so so much! <3

Kokichi lightly pressed his swollen foot flat against the hardwood floors. He no longer hissed in pain when his injured foot held his weight, but he still felt a dull ache resonating from the sensitive area. 

“You’re doing so well, Ouma-san.” A good-natured nurse cooed as she watched, hands hovering nearby in case he loses his balance. 

Ouma rolled his eyes, using his hands to lift himself back up on the handrails he used as support. 

The physical therapy was certainly helping him, well, get back on his feet again; but the staff was so obnoxious. 

Ouma suppressed the urge to mess with the girl; the thought of lifting himself up by the rails and swinging recklessly as the nurse flailed in panic was amusing, however. He snorted to himself. 

Ultimately, he decided to finish his walk down the railed pathway with good behavior. He watched himself in the large mirrors, feeling a bit unsettled by the sight of himself struggling to walk without support. 

At this point in time, it had been about a month since the night he broke his ankle, or rather, since  _ Shirogane _ had broken his ankle… 

The bone was mostly back together again, and Kokichi had been given a new, more lightweight cast to wear instead of his bulky brace. The doctor had given him the OK to begin walking without crutches again. 

The doctors told him his recovery was going exceptionally well, so why did he feel like a toddler learning how to walk? 

He bottled in his frustration as his session concluded, the nurse cheerfully wrapping things up and handing him some paperwork to fill out as usual, as well as his crutches. He gave her a fake smile before making his way out of the building. He refused to use his crutches until he got outside.  

“Fuck…” He muttered to himself as soon as he stepped outside, quickly assembling his crutches and taking the weight off his foot. 

He really wanted to cry right now. 

No matter how many times the doctor’s told him his recovery was going well, no matter how many weeks passed, and no matter how much progress he seemed to make with his physical therapy, he still felt reliant on his crutches. 

It made him feel so pathetic. The same resentment towards them that he felt at the beginning of this ordeal resurfaced now that it was almost over. 

_ Almost over? Is that even true?  _

Kokichi thought about it for a moment. According to the doctors, a broken ankle takes 6 weeks to fully heal, but that’s just scratching the surface. Even after you fully ‘heal,’ the pain won’t subside. He would still have trouble walking on his own. He would still need to not strain his newly healed bones, lest they come apart again.

Even after the recovery, it would never truly end. There would be consequences he might end up dealing with for the rest of his life. What’s the point in saying he was getting better?  He’d never be fully complete again. 

He found himself feeling the same bitter resentment he felt on the day he was released from rehabilitation.  No matter how much progress he made, he was still only at the beginning of the road.  The walk ahead was so much longer.  

On days like these, he just didn’t feel up to it. He didn’t want to make any progress. He just wanted to curl up and stay stagnant forever, never making another effort to recover. After all, it was all pointless anyways. 

He jammed his earbuds into his ears as he sat down at the bench, waiting for the bus to arrive to take him back to campus. Today was the last day of Thanksgiving break, and the thought of classes starting up again stressed him out. 

What was even more stressful, however, was the fact that Amami-chan and Saihara-chan would be back soon. 

The small boy hadn’t spoken to either of them since the week before they left, despite their efforts to reach out to him. 

Kiibo and Iruma had gone home too. In fact, most people had. The campus was pretty much a ghost town now, with only a handful of students roaming the halls with their heads down; probably ashamed that they had no place to return to.  

Kokichi was just about the only one who held his head high, unapologetic of the fact that his father hated his guts and his mother was 6 feet under. 

Or at least, he thought he was the only one, until he returned to the dorm rooms to see an oddly familiar face. It was a hazy sort of familiar, like maybe he had seen her in a dream once. 

A girl with dark skin contrasted by silky white hair stood in a bright yellow smock, humming to herself cheerfully as she gazed upon the side of the building thoughtfully. 

Ouma would have initially ignored the girl, had she not made eye contact with him, immediately breaking into a wide smile. 

“Oh, thank you, Atua! You’ve answered my prayers once again!” The girl rejoiced as she happily skipped up to Ouma. The girl was short, just about eye level with Ouma as she grasped his hands firmly, taking the small boy aback. 

“A friendly face! It’s so nice to see you again! If you don’t mind, could you help me out with a little project for just a moment?” 

The girl put Ouma at a loss for words, which was quite a feat. It seemed she had even more screws loose than he did. He raised an eyebrow at her. The girl continued, seemingly unable to read the mood. 

“I’ve been commissioned to paint a mural by the academy! You’re the artistic type too right? That’s what Atua is telling me… Then would you mind helping m-” 

“Uhh, do I know you?” Ouma abruptly cut the girl off. Her bouncy and cheerful demeanor was stomped out as she blinked back at him in surprise. 

“Ah! How unpleasant, I’ve been completely forgotten haven’t I?” Even as she spoke such sullen words, her tone was light and buoyant. What a strange girl. “Then, if you won’t help me as a dear friend, might I interest you in some other form of payment?” The girl’s tone shifted to something suspicious, but Ouma wasn’t phased. 

“Look lady, I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m not even into women.” Ouma snipped back at the girl, intending to end the annoying conversation. 

“Oh no no no, silly! My body is a temple, and I would never solicit it for goods and services, for I belong only to Atua!” 

“Hmm, then what the hell were you rambling on about?” Ouma curiously replied. The girl’s expression flattened, looking at him with strangely analytical eyes. 

“Goodness, you really did forget!” She began, “I guess you were already pretty fucked up to begin with that night, huh?” The girl stated as she chuckled to herself. When Ouma thought about her words, he realized this might have been someone he had met before when he was, well, under the influence. There was only one time since he got to this university that he would fit the girl’s description. 

“Miu’s party?” Ouma tilted his head, studying the girl’s face. It almost seemed as if she was antagonising him, yet her expression remained innocent. 

“So you do remember! Good, good, then I’m sure you remember this too, right?” The girl suddenly jammed her hand into her pocket, pulling out a rolled up plastic baggie. 

Ouma had been to enough parties to know that there were drugs inside the bag, even though he couldn't see them clearly. His fuzzy memories began to come back to him a little. He remembered sitting on the porch of the mansion with a person, who was probably this girl, and another stranger. He remembers some sort of exchange, and he remembered feeling like shit about himself as he placed a small tablet on his tongue. Then he just remembered feeling good, and nothing else. 

He was smart enough to put the full picture together. 

“Of course I remember, stupid! I was just fucking with you. Jeez, you’re so gullible.” Ouma snickered aloud to sell his lie. This person was a bit shady, and he didn’t want her to have the upper hand here. 

“Oh, hooray! Then, I assume you’re still interested, yes?” The girl danced around before thrusting the bag forward, offering it to the small boy. Kokichi swallowed hard as his eyes flickered to the contents. He felt an itching sensation cover his skin as he thought about indulging himself. After all, he needed it, right? He’s been so stressed lately… 

However, as he reached out to grab the offering, every muscle in his body suddenly tensed. 

He wasn’t sure why, but he was hesitating. Maybe his moral compass was making a surprise appearance for once. 

“Actually,” Ouma began, not really sure why he was feeling so apprehensive. “Just… show me what you need my help with.” 

It was uncharacteristic of him, and he knew that, yet something in the back of his mind was telling him to reject the offer. Maybe his moral compass had finally kicked in, but he felt as if was the ‘right’ thing to do. Whatever the hell that meant. 

He silently worried that the girl might judge him for his sudden change of heart, but she simply smiled brightly. 

“You’ll do it out of the kindness of your heart? Oh, praise Atua!” The girl spun around before making her way over to the wall she had been studying before he arrives. Ouma reluctantly followed, still feeling a little abnormal from the interaction. “Now then, please give me your honest opinions!” 

“Of course! I’m always honest, after all.” Ouma smirked. His statement was sarcastic, but he did intend to be honest in this case. 

As he got closer, he noticed she was already well-prepared. A slew of painting supplies were scattered around on a large white tarp. 

The girl began to ask him a series of questions, mostly about location and dimensions. Ouma didn’t know nearly as much as the girl seemed to think he did, but he played along, giving answers that sounded knowledgeable. The girl was rather satisfied with his opinions, anyways. 

“I knew you were the artistic type! Say, are you interested in becoming a disciple? With your talent, we could make even more beautiful offerings to Atua!” 

The girl mentioned the name ‘Atua’ several times, and he had started to understand that this girl worshiped that figure as some sort of God. She was probably asking him to make artwork for her God, but little did she know if he used his actual talent for leadership and manipulation he probably could end up starting a cult of some sort with her. While the thought was amusing, the look in the girl’s eyes actually scared him a little bit. She was  _ way  _ too into this. 

“Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t believe in God anyways.” 

The girl’s smile faded a bit, before returning in full vigor. “That is A-OK! Atua will touch the hearts of all his children eventually. Besides, this is an opportunity to become Atua’s vessel and help you see the light using my talent!” 

“Well, aren’t you annoyingly optimistic.” Ouma felt a prickle of irritation talking to this girl. She was way too persistent. 

“Don’t be so harsh, my friend! All I want is to undo the brainwashing that society has inflicted upon you. Tell me whatever it is you desire, and I promise you, Atua will make it so if you only become his disciple!” 

_ Whatever I desire, huh?  _

“What if…” Ouma thought aloud. “What if I don’t even know what I want, though?” 

He wasn’t sure why he was sharing this with the girl. Maybe it was because she seemed so out of it anyways that it was like talking to a brick wall. It’s not like she truly cared, or would repeat his words to anyone. 

“Oh?” The girl replied, showing a tad bit more interest than an actual brick wall, which was nice. 

“See, I’m in love with two different people! And they both love me back, apparently. So now I have to make a choice, and I have no idea who I want more. Isn’t that shitty of me?” His voice remained calm and steady, but the words cut him deeply. He really was a shitty person. He knew that. 

The girl seemed to give genuine thought to his statement, but it was probably just feigned interest. 

“Atua tells me that you are being genuine, my friend. Therefore, I do not think less of you!” 

Ouma snorted at the naivete. “Okay, so what if I told you I was actually lying? I don’t actually give a shit about either of them, and I’m just lying to them, enjoying every second of their heartbreak.” Ouma gave a wide grin as he spat the words. 

To his surprise, the girl seemed unphased by his harsh statement. 

“I do not believe you. If you truly love someone, you would not lie to them, and Atua tells me that your feelings are true.” 

Ouma found himself feeling almost unsettled. How could she possibly know that he was lying? Was some imaginary God really telling her these things, or was she just as good of a liar as he was? He might’ve been impressed if her declaration hadn’t ticked him off so much. 

He hated people who wrote off lies with such idealistic principles. 

“That’s a nice thought, but it’s not exactly realistic. People lie to their loved ones all the time. I’m sure you do it, too.” 

“The only one I love is Atua, and I have never once lied to him. Even if I tried, I would be wasting my time! Atua knows all.” 

Ouma didn’t know why, but this girl was starting to seriously unsettle him with her religious gibberish. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this. 

“Whatever, if that’s all you needed then I’m gonna go ahead and see myself out of this conversation before you end up kidnapping and sacrificing me to your weird-ass God. See ya.” He waved the girl off and turned to walk away. 

“Ah, please wait! There was one more, teensy-tiny favor I needed.” She pleaded. Ouma reluctantly decided to hear her out. “You see, I can only do my artwork in complete solitude…” She began with a sulky tone. “But the school officials want the mural to be outside! It’s such a dilemma… But that’s where you can help me!” The girl clasped her hands together and looked up at him hopefully. He wanted so badly to just crush that hope, but instead he was whisked along with her wishes before he even knew it. 

“So please, if you’ll just stand guard here for a few hours or so…” 

“Hours!?” Ouma was about to turn tail and run, but it seemed his fate was sealed now. The girl nodded enthusiastically after securing her victim, swiftly exiting the conversation to immerse herself in her work. 

Ouma stood by himself now, feeling like he just got robbed. 

“Are you fucking kidding me…” 

 

 

-

 

 

As promised, hour passed while Kokichi stood watch in front of the dormitories. As time went on, he began to feel that his job was more and more useless. There were hardly any students left on campus, and those that remained were hardly interested in approaching the artist. 

Kokichi’s legs began to tire, so he eventually found his way towards a bench. He was no longer within view of the strange girl, but she was so focused on her artwork that she didn’t even seem to notice his absence. He sighed in exasperation, closing his eyes for a rest. 

He felt a cold raindrop hit his cheek as he heard footsteps approaching him. They were heavy and slow, not matching the girl’s pace in the slightest. 

Finally, he could at least make himself useful. 

“Hey, you can’t go any fur-” Kokichi enthusiastically shot up to stop the stranger in their tracks, but was surprised to see a familiar face. Deep green eyes were filled with melancholy, yet a small smile still graced the tall boy’s lips. 

“A-Amami-chan…” Kokichi actually  _ stuttered  _ at the unexpected sight of his best friend. Upon closer inspection, he also noticed a distinctive bruise under the boy’s right eye. Kokichi remembered the conversation he had had with Amami before break. Had his father given him a black eye? Either way, Kokichi knew that Amami was already acutely aware of the state of his face, and didn’t feel the need to point out the obvious. “You’re… home early.” 

More raindrops began to fall.

“Yeah.” Amami’s voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “I missed you.” The tall boy got straight to the point, and Kokichi felt a lump in his throat. Rantaro had been back for about 10 seconds and he had already dug up the feelings that Kokichi had been trying so hard to bury since the boy left. 

It was raining steadily now, drops falling onto the tall boy’s face. They almost looked like tears. Kokichi hardly noticed that he was being rained on as well, until Rantaro stepped forward and began removing his jacket. 

The way the taller boy draped the clothing around his shoulders reminded him of when Rantaro used to help him put his cape on before their meetings. A pang of nostalgia hit him before he shirked away from the lingering touch. 

He had expected the tall boy to begin his usual doting as soon as they were reunited. 

_ Have you eaten properly?  _

_ How’s your ankle?  _

_ Do you need me to carry you back to your room? _

But he only stood and smiled slightly. When Kokichi took a second to study the green-eyed boy, he was surprised to see the love hadn’t left his eyes in the slightest. However, something was certainly different now; and it wasn’t just the black eye. 

Kokichi felt himself fidgeting a little in doubtfulness. He flipped the hood of the jacket around his shoulders up, protecting him fully from the falling rain. He had been fully prepared for the onslaught of the boy’s usual, overprotective nature, so now that it wasn’t coming, he wasn’t sure how to proceed. 

But this boy was still his best friend after all, right? 

“So, looks like the talk you had with your dad went great.” To Kokichi’s surprise and relief, his comment caused the other boy to crack a different smile. A familiar smile that always filled his body with warmth. 

“Is it that obvious? I guess you could tell by my glowing face and newfound optimism, right?” The boy retained his smile as he answered sarcastically, causing a snicker to escape from Kokichi. He was so relieved things still felt natural between the two of them, even after all they had been through. Rantaro cleared his throat. “No but, for real.” He began, “I told them everything; my parents.” 

“Hmm…” Kokichi hummed as he studied the bruised boy. He had never once held a conversation with Rantaro’s father, and he didn’t really want to. The man always seemed to give Kokichi a dirty look whenever he came around, lowering his voice to a whisper while talking to his wife. Typically, parents weren’t exactly fans of Kokichi, but the disdain that man held towards him seemed deep-seated. If he had to guess, it was because he was gay. That brought forth a question to the small boy’s mind. “Amami-chan, why exactly did you think telling them was a good idea?” 

When Kokichi thought about it, it sounded so disastrous that he almost had to laugh. A well-off, church-going families’ only son coming out as gay? His friend should’ve expected this kind of backlash, right? Amami wasn’t stupid, though. Kokichi was sure he had his reason, and he was interested in hearing them. 

Rantaro seemed surprised by the question. 

“Well…” He struggled a bit. “I spend a lot of time with my family, and even though they aren’t perfect people, I care about them. My father… is a bit of an exception, but still.” The tall boy slowly gained confidence as he continued. “I just… wanted to be able to be myself around them. I didn’t want to have to hide every time I go to see them. I didn’t want to live with such a huge weight on my shoulders. I just wanted to be honest. If they chose not to accept me for who I am, then I would have to live with that, but at least I could say I didn’t run away.” 

Kokichi was taken aback by the sentiment the boy was expressing all of a sudden. 

“Listen, Kokichi. I’ve been hiding my entire life. I’ve been lying, and running away from the truth, but I decided that ends now. I only want to live as who I truly am from now on, no matter what the consequences might be.” Kokichi’s eyes flickered to Amami-chan’s now clenched fists. The tall boy faced the ground as the rain continued to soak him. 

Kokichi couldn’t even pretend to understand the boy. He had no connections to his family whatsoever. He had never bothered to tell his father that he was gay, but his father probably knew that anyways. He would just be wasting his breath. Coming out to his father wouldn’t make him any more or less hated. He tried not to think about it too much. 

The tall boy let out a deep sigh before facing Kokichi again. 

“I don’t regret it.” Amami inched closer, outstretching a hand to frame the small boy’s face. “I don’t regret any of it…” 

Rantaro’s eyes turned intense as he spoke the words softly, causing Kokichi’s heart to skip a beat. He stared helplessly at the tall boy’s face, feeling like he was caught in a daze. The wet hair clinging to his best friend’s damn-near perfect features, along with his slightly parted lips was making him weak. 

“Yoo-hoo! This rain is really coming down isn’t it? I think now is a good time to pack in in for today! Oh?” 

The strange girl from before had returned from her trance-like state of painting, apparently. Her voice snapped Kokichi out of his haze. 

“Oho? I’m interrupting, perhaps?” The girl beamed at the two boys. 

Kokichi had stopped feeling the need to run away from uncomfortable situations lately; mostly due to the fact that he literally couldn’t. However, there was no need, apparently. Rantaro had backed off slightly at the girl’s sudden appearance, resting a hand on the back of his neck as he laughed nervously. 

“No, no, you’re fine! I should really be unpacking soon anyways.” The tall boy rushed to assure the girl. He turned to Kokichi. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”  

As soon as he had appeared, he was gone, leaving Kokichi standing next to the curious girl in the pouring rain with only his jacket as proof that the exchange had even happened. 

 

 

 

-

 

 

Kokichi sat at the desk in his dorm room, staring out the window. He had been watching the rain fall for a while now, Amami-chan’s jacket still draped from his shoulders. 

Seeing Rantaro again had been just about what he had expected, and at the same time, completely unexpected. 

Just as he thought, seeing the boy’s face and being near him made him fall for him all over again. However, Rantaro seemed so different now. 

The time Kokichi had spent alone had helped him reflect a lot; maybe it had done the same for Rantaro. That being said, Kokichi’s mind couldn’t help but wonder if Saihara-chan had changed too.

He wondered when Saihara-chan would be back. They hadn’t spoken since before he had left, either. Maybe Saihara-chan didn’t even like him anymore. 

He wouldn’t blame him if that was the case. 

Even so, the thought made his heart hurt. 

Before the boys had left, he had told them both the same thing. 

He had told Saihara that he was in love with Rantaro, and Rantaro that he was in love with Saihara. 

He liked to think of it as a final warning. 

He didn’t understand why both Saihara and Amami had decided to confess to him at the same time, hell, he  _ still  _ didn’t. But either way, he felt enough respect for the two of them to tell them both the truth. 

And it was true. 

He loved Rantaro. He always had, and he probably always would. 

However, Shuuichi had completely changed his life in such a short amount of time, and what he felt for him could only be described as love, too. 

But he could only be with one of them. That’s just how it was. The longer he spent stringing the both of them along, the more it was going to hurt when he had to make a choice. 

Kokichi didn’t credit himself as a good person, but the guilt he felt when he thought of hurting the two of them was...

_ Make a choice.  _

Ouma bit his lip sharply.

_ Make a choice.  _

He covered his ears, pressing harshly against his head. 

_ Make a choice.  _

He felt panic start to rise as his emotions flooded out. Tears began to stream their way down his cheeks. He didn't want to feel this way. He didn’t want to feel anything. 

_ You have to make a choice. Now!  _

“I can’t!” Ouma cried out, unable to control himself. He stomped his foot against the ground while pounding against the solid wood of the desk with his fists. 

“I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't!” 

_ This is why no one should love you in the first place.  _

He ceased his assault on the innocent desk, collapsing in exhaustion from his tantrum. He hiccuped and sobbed until the pain dulled into frustration. 

He would get to see Saihara-chan again tomorrow… 

He couldn’t find the energy to move, so he stayed at his desk as he felt himself going numb. Eventually, he fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof... A LOT of things about this chapter ended up changing from my plan tbh, from the contents, to the length, to the title. It's turned into more of a set-up chapter for the events that are going to take place from here on out; the ending, if you will. (There was even originally supposed to be a NSFW scene in this chapter LOL) 
> 
> Anyways as my work schedule continues to try to kill me and my wedding is quickly approaching i will do my best to not need another hiatus, but you guys are literally SO supportive so thank you so much for that!
> 
>  
> 
> ((Also dont worry, im planning to reintegrate the nsfw scene in the future lol))


	24. Split Path

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I'm back, but soon you might wish I wasn't! 
> 
> This chapter took me 5 days to write. And it's 90% nsfw. What the fuc,,, 
> 
> Anyways I'll have some updates and announcements at the end of this chapter but for now just enjoyed this long-delayed smut i guess.

The last thing Kokichi remembered was falling asleep at his desk. His hands throbbed with discomfort and tears dried around his eyes, but he had lacked the energy to pick himself back up. 

He stirred in his sleep, feeling peculiar about the position he found himself in. He lay prone on a soft surface, and confusion began to rouse his eyelids open. The bedsheets were clean, smelling like freshly washed linens, and the warm feeling of his pillow against his cheek gave him an overwhelming sense of comfort. If he hadn’t been so unsure of where he was, he might’ve just stayed there forever. 

A small yawn escaped his lips as he blinked the sleep away, blurry vision slowly coming into focus on the world around him. He felt himself jolt into awareness as the silhouette of a person became clear. The room was pitch dark, save for a small reading light flickering near the figure, who sat on the bed opposite of him. 

Kokichi recognized the familiar atmosphere that was his room, as well as the golden gaze that met with his as the mysterious figure heard him awaken.  Kokichi could vaguely make out the features of his face shifting from surprise to contentment as he folded his book closed, keeping his eyes locked on the smaller boy. 

“Ouma-kun…” The soft voice caused Kokichi’s heart to stutter. He had simply spoken his name, yet there was so much more behind his voice. There was the time that had separated them since they last spoke, there was the memories of the whirlwind of events that had changed both of their lives, but most prominently there was longing. Ouma involuntarily let out a shaky breath.

“L-long time no see, my beloved Saihara-chan.” Ouma felt his face heating up at the fact that he just  _ stuttered,  _ but Saihara only smiled gently at him. Ever the saint, Saihara must have been the one to have tucked him in to bed. Ouma wondered how long he had been here, as his sense of time had become hazy. 

“I’m sorry for intruding, but…” A flush rose to his cheeks to rival Ouma’s, and the small boy couldn’t help feeling like the two of them were a pair of elementary school children holding hands on the playground. “I’d like to move back in… If you’d let me.” It was only then that Kokichi fully took in his surroundings, eyes fully adjusting to the dimly lit room. It seemed Saihara-chan had just gotten back in town, his still unpacked suitcase resting near the door and his shoes not yet removed from his feet. He wasn’t making himself too comfortable, it seemed. Did he expect rejection? 

It was actually laughable, considering Saihara had every right to return to the room. After all, he never actually petitioned for a new roommate to the school. Even still, Saihara humbly offered him a choice. 

_ A choice. _

Ouma stiffened at the thought.

This was it; This was his choice. He could no longer run away, for the time to make his choice was now or never. 

He met Saihara’s soft gaze with eyes that revealed no emotion. His mind betrayed his facade, however, as thoughts and memories of these past few months swirled around in his head. Suddenly, the heat of the bed turned overbearing as his mind raced. He shifted, uncovering himself from the warm cocoon of blankets and letting his feet dangle off the side of the mattress. 

Without warning, Saihara rose from his spot on the bed, making his way over to Ouma’s bedside. Ouma looked up at the detective, carefully instructing his gaze not to falter as his heart sped up. 

“I’ve missed you so much, Ouma.” Saihara spoke the words as if he could no longer help himself. A hand gently rising to rest on Ouma’s chin, and he found himself instinctively nuzzling into the touch. Saihara’s confidence surprising, but not unwelcome. His heart constricted as a thumb began to lovingly stroke his cheek, and the small boy could only ball his fists around the bedsheets in response. 

From the moment he had laid eyes on Saihara, he knew the detective was really something special. He felt his mask of indifference crumble as Saihara leaned downward, the height that separated them gradually disappearing until their lips aligned, but didn’t connect. He felt Saihara’s breathing brush gently against him. 

His grip on the sheets tightened as he thought of the first time Saihara had ever opened up to him, laughter spilling from his lips as they spun together endlessly at the amusement park. He thought about all the times Saihara had been there for him, even when he hadn’t deserved it. How Saihara had taken care of him when he was too drunk to stand up. He thought about the first time they kissed, for as showy and public as Ouma had tried to make it, Saihara’s intimate touch still managed to chill him to the bone.

“I missed you, too.” Ouma whispered weakly. Saihara took that as permission to proceed, tilting Ouma’s head back slightly to press a chaste kiss to his lips. 

With those four words, Ouma had made his choice. 

In that moment, he opened his heart completely for Saihara. He would let him in, and never let him go. Ouma hoped for the last time that Saihara truly knew what he was getting himself into, before thoughts began to melt away in the heat of Saihara’s touch. 

He worried that his troubles would return once this was all over, but for now, all he could think about was how badly he wanted this as he was gently pushed back into the bed. It felt so right. This choice had to be the right one, he thought as Saihara’s hand slipped underneath the loose fabric of his shirt. The detective’s hand felt slightly clammy, and Ouma smirked, realizing Saihara’s show of confidence was simply a display. It was endearing, to say the least. 

Saihara pressed on regardless, deepening their kiss as his hands found Kokichi’s hardened nipples. The detective’s thumb gingerly swirled around the sensitive area, eliciting a gasp from Kokichi. He felt Saihara’s weight shift to completely eclipse the small boy underneath him, and Kokichi felt a rush of arousal at the thought of Saihara dominating him. 

Though Saihara seemed to hesitate. His touches remained soft, gentle. Kokichi had longed for Saihara’s hands to be all over him, so the way his hands slowly and lightly dusted his skin nearly caused him to squirm in frustration. He needed more.

Saihara lazily trailed his hands near the dips of his hips, breaking their kiss to scan Kokichi’s face for approval. Kokichi nodded without hesitation, before briefly wondering just how far Saihara meant to take this. This was certainly not the first time he and Saihara had messed around, but things were different then. Before his mind could wander, he felt Saihara tug at the waist of his pants, stripping him in one decisive tug. Kokichi, half-hard and mostly bare now, decided that this was entirely unfair. The smaller tugged at Saihara’s jacket, silently urging him to strip along with him. The detective sweetly complied, letting out a small breath of amusement as he began to unbutton himself. Kokichi decided to assist him by working on his pants, until they were equally exposed to each other. 

Saihara shrugged off the rest of his jacket, pulling Kokichi close enough to feel his heartbeat. And then they melded together once more, the sweetness of Saihara’s lips erasing all the pain and doubt left in his mind. Kokichi wrapped his arms around Saihara’s neck and allowed the detective to lead their kiss, surprised when he felt the detective’s tongue slip into his mouth. 

Saihara was so sickeningly sweet. His hold on Kokichi so strong, yet he felt so much love and affection. Kokichi felt conflicted as his arousal grew stronger. Kissing Saihara like this, he wanted nothing more than for all to be forgiven between them. A fresh start. At the same time, his hardness grinding against the detective’s made him ache for punishment. 

“Saihara… I want you to fuck me.” He felt Saihara jolt slightly at his words. Poor, precious Saihara… “What? Is this news to you? My apologies for not making it clear enough.” Saihara’s expression softened a bit at the irony of Kokichi saying such things while being pinned down to the bed by the detective. 

“Well, I’m glad… because I want that too.” 

Saihara was always so soft, it seemed. Kokichi found it charming. However, he wanted nothing more than to be fucked into the bed right now. 

He leaned forward to bite at Saihara’s lip. He knew the detective had it in him to be rough, he just needed a little push. 

“Won’t you even say it? I’m a little disappointed, Saihara-chan. I didn’t know you were  _ that  _ much of a virgin.” Kokichi instantly regretted the words as they left his mouth. 

Saihara’s mouth twisted into a grimace, and Kokichi worried that he had ruined the moment between them. To his surprise, Saihara’s hold on him only solidified. The detective leaned back in for another kiss, but surprising the smaller by niping at his lip. “You’ve got such a mouth on you.” The words came out as a growl, causing to Kokichi to jerk in response. 

If he didn’t know Saihara to be harmless, he might’ve been intimidated. 

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Ouma urged, smirking to assure the detective he was enjoying himself. 

His hands were swiftly collected, now pressed together above his head. Tender caresses turned to tight grips; Sweet kisses turned to nipping between tongues delving into the other’s mouths. Kokichi moaned as Saihara rutted against him. 

Kokichi was fully erect now, and aching for more abuse as Saihara tilted his head to expose his neck. 

“Th-the drawer.” Kokichi begged as the detective sucked on the skin near his adam’s apple. Saihara hummed softly against his throat, acknowledging the small boy. He didn’t seem to be in as much of a hurry as Kokichi now was. Kokichi tried to squirm away from his hold, but it only grew tighter in response. 

“You can’t always get exactly what you want, Kokichi.” Saihara backed off and began trailing leisurely down his stomach with his free hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say ‘please’ since the day I met you.” Kokichi swallowed nervously as he realized where Saihara was going with this. The humiliation of someone who carried themselves as highly as he did begging to be fucked, it was pathetic. And yet, the thought went straight to his dick. He whined indignantly before huffing in defeat. 

“Please, Saihara.” He bluntly spat. 

Saihara clicked his tongue in disapproval, limiting contact with the small boy. 

“Unghh….Saihara..!” Kokichi needily whined in response, still held down by only one of Saihara’s surprisingly strong hands. He couldn’t take much more. “Fine! Please, Shuuichi, i’m begging you… Please, fuck me  _ now.”  _ He choked on the words, trying to remain control by making demands, but Saihara saw through him. He smiled in sweet satisfaction, and complied with the request. Ouma sighed in relief as Saihara leaned over to dig through the contents of the bedside drawer. 

Kokichi felt like he was overheating from the blush dusting his cheeks. Saihara had really made him beg. He was honestly impressed. 

His admiration was interrupted by the press of cold, wet fingers against his entrance. He yelped. 

Saihara jumped slightly at the sound, before hesitating. Maintaining eye contact, he slowly slid a lithe finger inside. Saihara wasted no time by adding a second finger, then a third. Kokichi bit his lip to prevent the sounds of pleasure from being slowly teased by Saihara’s fingers. 

“Nnn… That’s good enough, just-” Saihara immediately withdrew his fingers, leaving an aching loneliness behind. Without being told, the detective grasped Kokichi by the hips and aligned himself with the tight entrance. Their eyes locked once more, before the smaller boy’s eyes closed tightly from the sensation of Saihara entering him. He heard a strangled sound from Saihara as he pushed himself inside completely. 

Kokichi’s eyes flickered open to gaze at the boy above him. The detective’s long lashes fluttered, lips parted in a soft sigh, and… were those tears? His watery eyes let a single tear escape, dripping onto Kokichi’s cheek. 

“I’m sorry… I just…” Kokichi’s eyes widened in awe as he searched every inch of the boy’s face, memorizing every bittersweet emotion that showed itself. Kokichi raised a hand, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall next. “I didn’t think I would be so lucky.” Kokichi felt his heart clench at the words. He wanted nothing more than to make love to Saihara, and give the boy his whole heart. Saihara deserved to know how loved he was. 

Kokichi placed a hand on Saihara’s bare chest, before firmly pushing him backwards. He remained inside Kokichi as he landed on his back with a surprised gasp. Kokichi let out a sob as he landed on top of the boy, feeling Saihara’s length push even deeper from the new angle they found themselves at. 

The detective looked a bit dumbfounded at having all control taken from him. Kokichi couldn’t help but laugh breathily as he picked himself up, before sliding back down Saihara’s length. It was truly a different experience from this position. The pain was slightly more intense, but so was the pleasure. 

“Kokichi…” Saihara panted his name helplessly as he began to repeatedly lower himself. Kokichi felt warmth envelop him as he relaxed into the sensation of being continually filled by Saihara. Saihara grasped for his hands, lacing their fingers together as Kokichi rode him. Kokichi felt his heart melt.

His thighs began to burn from the constantly lifting his weight, but Saihara supported him, squeezing his hand tightly in the throes of their pleasure. The bed creaked beneath them as their movements became more frantic. Kokichi murmuring Saihara’s name as he grew closer to climax. 

Kokichi arched when he landed at the perfect angle, white hot pleasure crawling up his spine. Saihara must have felt it too, as he began thrusting upwards to meet Kokichi’s demands for more.  His grip on Saihara’s hands turned to a vice as the detective repeatedly hit his prostate. The sensation was overwhelming, and Kokichi couldn’t hold on much longer. 

“Kokichi… I love you.” Saihara’s eyes were glossy as he looked up at Kokichi like he truly meant it. A final thrust combined with Saihara’s loving confession was all it took. Kokichi shuddered as the hot liquid spilled onto the detective’s taut stomach. Kokichi tightened around Saihara’s cock, and felt the detective tense up as his own climax washed over him. 

Kokichi’s legs suddenly felt like Jello, and he slumped forward. He didn’t even mind the sticky sensation between their stomachs as he curled into Saihara, still breathing hard. He felt the other’s chest slowly rise and fall as he pressed a kiss to Kokichi’s forehead. 

After all the fights and the lies, the only thing that remained between them now was love. That was All Kokichi could feel in this moment. Kokichi lifted himself on shaky hands to gaze into Saihara’s eyes. There was no resentment, nor hatred, nor grudges. 

Kokichi felt tears stinging his eyes. 

“What did I do to deserve you, Saihara-chan?” His voice shook as he begged the question. 

“Absolutely nothing,” Saihara practically snorted. “But love is unconditional. All you ever had to do was walk through that door, and into my life.” 

Kokichi felt his chest fill with warmth at his words, his eyelids growing heavy before he realized how exhausted he was. 

“Stupid Saihara…” He began to doze off. 

“Uh…? Kokichi?” 

He faintly smiled at the thought of Saihara calling him by his first name as his consciousness faded further. He realized Saihara was probably referring to the puddle between their stomachs. 

“Mmm… Take care of it.” He ordered lazily. 

He heard only a soft chuckle in response. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So our boy has finally made a choice. Wowie. 
> 
> But in all seriousness guys the past few months have been crazy. I got married, that went great. The bahamas are amazing. Im sorry I was gone for so long. Sometimes i just lose the energy to exsist, but I always planned to see this story through to the bitter end, and so here I am. 
> 
> Ultimately, though, I have some bad news for some of you. I've decided not to give this story 2 separate endings. I'm at the point where I really want to move on to other stories and fandoms, and it's going to take all of my willpower just to finish this with ONE ending, led alone two. So if it wasn't obvious, I'm going with the ending that was always meant to be for this story, and that's Saihara and Ouma. 
> 
> I hope you all understand. But don't worry too much if you're disappointed by this choice; This story was always meant to have a happy ending. For everyone. 
> 
> Until next time guys, thank you all so much for reading.


	25. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! This update was a much shorter wait! And it's also pretty much the last Big Update to this fic, like ever! ^o^ 
> 
> Yes, this is basically the final chapter! There will be one more, though, the epilogue. It should end up being pretty short, though, so enjoy the last plot-driven chapter of the series! 
> 
> Also BIG TW for the tag "Past Sexual Abuse." It's not graphic but if it makes you uncomfortable you might want to just skip the second scene of this chapter entirely. Other than that, enjoy... This!

Ouma yawned as he lazily flipped through the pages of his sketchbook. It had been a while since he had picked it up, led alone drawn in it. He sat comfortably, wrapped in blankets as his eyes flickered between the boy sleeping by his side and his scrawled on the pages. 

He was surprised when he had awoken before the detective, his memories of the previous night taking a moment to return to him. Ouma donned a shirt and shorts he hadn’t fallen asleep in, which made him giddy. He had expected that Shuuichi would take care of him; He always did. 

Ouma had been sitting up for a while, now. Shuuichi usually never slept this long. The small boy had been occupying himself for nearly an hour before the detective finally stirred. Ouma felt a wave of satisfaction at being the first thing Shuuichi saw when he woke up; and at the blush that spread across his cheeks. 

“Sleep well, my beloved?” 

Shuuichi grumbled at the nickname, sensing the sarcasm in Kokichi’s voice. He snickered as the detective began to rise. Blankets fell from his shoulders as he sat up, exposing his shirtless chest. Ouma was grateful for the sight. 

“What do you have there?” The detective inquired, boldly reaching over to tilt the book into his view. Ouma gave a brief shriek, causing Shuuichi to jump. 

“Mind your manners, Shuuichi! This is top secret information, not meant for laymen such as yourself.” 

“L-laymen?” Shuuichi scoffed, before shifting his gaze downward suddenly. 

“Hm?” Ouma leaned in, tilting his head at the detective.

“I like it when you call me that.” He said while he fiddled with his thumbs. 

“...Laymen?” 

“N-no! By my first name.” Shuuichi sputtered as he fought off a blush. 

Kokichi took a moment to process the words. Honestly, he hadn’t even realized he had been doing it. Even last night, it had just felt  _ right.  _ Kokichi felt a creeping sensation in his chest. There was so much floating in the air between them. There was no doubt they had hurt each other. They had said and done things that could never be erased. He could forgive him, but he wondered if he would ever be able to forgive himself. He had torn apart the two people he loved the most in this world in a fit of self-destructive rage. Neither of them had deserved it. 

Shuuichi’s hand came to rest on Ouma’s, his thumb drawing circles on his skin. 

“What’s wrong?” Shuuichi questioned. Ouma had the revelation that he had allowed his emotions to show on his face. Normally, Ouma would consider that a misstep on his part, but Shuuichi’s compassion crumbled his walls.

“I don’t think I deserve this. I don’t think I deserve  _ you. _ ” 

A sigh from the taller boy had Ouma wishing he had kept his mouth shut, but to his surprise, Shuuichi only pulled him close. Ouma remained still as the detective stroked his hair.

“I won’t say that the things you did were good, or even justifiable, but I’m not the perfect saint you seem to see me as. I know I’ve hurt you, too.” Shuuichi pressed him closer. Somehow, acknowledging the past out loud filled him with relief. “Even so, I want to be with you. But you seem to have the wrong idea. You think love is something you have to earn. Why is that?” 

For the life of him, Kokichi could not think of an answer. He realized he had never once thought about it. It was his nature, probably. His nature was cold, abrasive, manipulative, toxic… He could go on. When it really came down to it, there was only one answer he could supply. 

“Because… I am broken. And I’m so afraid that the poison that runs through my veins will infect you too.” 

Shuuichi didn’t move a muscle, nor speak a word. Ouma began to feel his stomach twist from uncertainty. After an eternity, Shuuichi pulled back to look him in the eyes. 

“You idiot.” Shuuichi snorted.  

“Eh?” Ouma blinked back at him. 

“You are not broken. You’re cold. You make rash decisions and you lie constantly. You put yourself before others; but none of that makes you broken. And you know what? Even if it did, that’s not what a relationship is about.” He spoke with confidence. “A relationship can’t fix you. It’s not meant to. All it means is that you will never be alone on the path to fixing yourself.” 

The words struck a chord with Ouma. Like a slap to the face, he realized what he had been missing all along. 

_ I can’t do this alone…  _

“So…” Ouma blinked, shifting to a lighthearted tone. “Is that your way of asking me out? Just kinda insulting me before throwing the word ‘relationship’ around so casually?” 

Shuuichi was instantly thrown off course, eyes growing wide. 

“That’s-” 

“I wholeheartedly accept your barbaric confession! You’re now obligated to put up with me forever.” 

The detective let out a laugh, and the sound soothed Ouma’s fast-beating heart. He felt all the past’s misunderstandings and heartbreak dissipating, leaving only warmth behind. Despite everything, Shuuichi really loved him. For the first time in his life, he felt worthy. Shuuichi had told him he was, and Shuuichi wasn’t a liar like him. 

Ouma was enthralled in the golden abyss in Shuuichi’s eyes before he realized that the detective was no longer looking at him, his gaze fixed squarely on the open notebook in his lap. 

Ouma closed the notebook with a slap, causing the boy beside him to jump. His heart fluttered, struggling to calm himself in the quiet moments that passed.

“...Did you see?” Ouma muttered, dreading the answer he already knew. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He averted his eyes in guilt. A wave of genuine embarrassment flowed over the smaller boy. Given the choice, he would rather die than let anyone see the contents of his sketchbook. Saihara had seen him in the most compromising positions possible, and yet this was somehow worse. 

_ Stupid Shuuichi.  _

Shuuichi shifted under the covers, before crawling out of the bed. Ouma raised an eyebrow at him, but he continued towards his suitcase. He unzipped it, and pulled out a worn notebook. It was clearly not meant for art, like Kokichi’s. The detective stared down at the book thoughtfully, before reapproaching him. 

“Here…” The detective opened the notebook to a specific page before offering it to his boyfriend. Ouma glanced at the neat handwriting sprawled across the page and gave him a curious look. 

“What’s this?” 

“I saw something private of yours, so, it’s only fair…” Shuuichi looked away as he handed the book off. 

Kokichi took hold of the book, curiously scanning the page it was opened on. Realization sank in as he processed the words. He flipped to another page, and then another. 

There were many entries, rarely skipping a day, and they all had one thing in common; Kokichi Ouma. All this time, Shuuichi had been thinking about him. He stopped on a certain entry that was much shorter than the rest. The date had been November 6th. His eyes were drawn to the last sentence. 

 

_ To me, Kokichi Ouma is  _

_ The love of my life. _

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Kokichi stood alone as the bathroom filled with steam from the shower. He had excused himself to wash off around 10 minutes ago, yet he still stood completely dry with his clothes pooled on the cold tile at his feet. 

Kokichi had felt like he was having the best high of his life. It amazed him how much his mood had turned around since yesterday. He and Shuuichi had spent the better half of the next few hours unpacking. They traded stories of what they had done over their respective vacations as well. Kokichi didn’t have much to report, but he felt elated at the spark in the detective’s eyes when he talked about seeing his uncle again. 

“He would love to meet you.” Shuuichi had said.

The fact that Shuuichi was back, that he wouldn’t be alone anymore, finally hit him in full force. It was all a bit too much, and Kokichi began to grow sentimental. 

He hated that feeling. 

Not to mention the subject that had been nagging at the back of his mind since last night; Amami. 

He realized with a touch of painful remorse that he hadn’t been able to think of his best friend at all since Shuuichi had gotten home. While he had no regrets about the choice he had made, but that didn’t mean it would be without consequence. 

Sweat had begun to accumulate on his body, dripping from the swaying ends of his hair. The droplets fell to the ground in lieu the tears he held back. He had found a hope for the future in Shuuichi, but the despair of his past refused to leave him. His mind clouded over, only to be cleared as he heard Saihara’s voice from the other side of the door. 

“Kokichi, is everything okay?” 

He jumped slightly before collecting himself. 

“Sure. Why do you ask?” He crammed his negative thoughts back into the crevices of his mind. He wanted to be his best for Shuuichi. 

“Well… You’ve been in there for like thirty minutes.” 

_ Whoops _ . Seems he lost track of time. 

“Do you mind if I come in?” Shuuichi asked.

“You can.” 

The door creaked open, and Kokichi turned his head to meet with a bewildered gaze. Shuuichi opened his mouth to speak, but Kokichi cut him off. 

“Yes, I’ve been here the whole time. Yes, I’m fine.” It came out sounding too cold, too distant. Shuuichi raised an eyebrow at him, unaffected by the harsh treatment. Shuuichi began towards him. His movements were slow and unsure, as if approaching a wounded animal. His eyes stayed fixed to Ouma’s. 

A hand gently caressed the nape of his neck as his boyfriend pressed their foreheads together. Kokichi closed his eyes, reflexively smiling into the intimacy.

“What’s bothering you?” Shuuichi asked, blatantly ignoring his previous claim. “Is it… Amami?” He treaded carefully, as if walking on pins. 

“That too, I suppose.” He shrugged. 

“I told you, you’re not alone anymore.” His boyfriend whispered, barely audible over the sound of running water. “If there’s anything on your mind, you can tell me.”

In that moment, Shuuichi Saihara was the only person he had ever wholeheartedly believed in his life of distrust and misguidance. He bit the inside of his cheeks to stop words from spewing from his mouth uncontrollably. There was so much he wanted to say, a massive weight on his chest that he had never allowed himself to speak aloud before. Not even to his best friend. He felt it all on the tip of his tongue, not quite knowing where to start; or even how. 

The moment passed him by, secrecy once again sealing his lips. 

“I think, if you really knew  _ everything _ , you would change your mind about me.” That was all he could give. He saw a million images flashing before his eyes. Many times in the kaleidoscope of his memories he saw his mother’s face, his father’s alcohol, the kids Amami warned him not to hang around, the hospital rooms, all the things that filled him with dread. His mind stopped on his worst memory of all. Like an endless cycle, it repeated. 

The one thing no one knows. The one thing no one should ever know. 

His nails dug into his palms as the memory drudged itself out from the abyss he hid it inside. Saihara couldn’t have known better as he reached for his boyfriend’s hand, trying to comfort him. 

“Stop!” Kokichi yanked his hand back. He saw only those dirty, disgusting hands reaching towards him. The foggy bathroom was now the bitingly cold asphalt on that quiet, disastrous night. He felt a stranger’s arms holding him back once again, and it all came back to him. “Don’t touch me!” He hollered the words, ducking down in defense. He forced his hands against his ears in a desperate attempt to get their atrocious laugher out of his head. 

His breath hitched as he relived the night he had been violated. The night that changed him forever. The night that took his innocence away. Cornered like a rat, held down, and used. He felt bile rising in his throat.

“-so sorry! Kokichi, hey!” A voice cut through his nightmares. It was faded and far away. It couldn’t save him. 

No one came to save him. 

“Kokichi, please. Can you hear me?” The voice grew clearer, enough that he could hear the shakiness in it. “I-I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry!” His eyes snapped open and the scene disappeared as he recognized his boyfriend’s voice. He felt hot tears streaming down his cheeks, his head buried between his legs as he sat on the floor. 

He looked up at Shuuichi, distress written on his face. He knelt close, but not too close. 

“It’s not your fault, Shuuichi.” His voice cracked. “But there is something. Something I need to tell you, after all.” 

Ouma felt safe from the memory in Shuuichi’s presence, but it still lingered. It would come back, as it always did. He took a deep breath as he thought about how good it had felt to speak aloud about their past earlier; the way the weight had lifted up. Maybe this would be the same. 

Besides, his loving, caring boyfriend probably thinks this was all his fault. He couldn’t allow that. 

“Anything.” The detective urged him on. 

“Something happened to me a long time ago. Something I’ve never told anyone about.” He started slowly, losing his usual boldness as he faced his vulnerability head on. He hesitated for a while, and Shuuichi tolerated the silence. He struggled to produce words; normally his greatest weapon. 

“In middle school, there was a girl named Tsumugi.” Kokichi began his recount of the story, knowing fully well that Shuuichi was already familiar with the girl. “You could say… she really had it out for me. And I suppose she had her reasons, but long story short, she ruined my life. She outed me to the entire study body, and it was pretty much downhill from there.” Kokichi felt unsure of himself, but he glanced at Shuuichi, who was giving him his undivided attention. Perhaps he just wasn’t used to telling the truth. 

“That should’ve been it, but it wasn’t. She wanted me to suffer more. So, she…” The words stopped short of a sentence. He felt himself losing his nerve. Surely, it wasn’t too late to back out. He could make something up on the spot, and keep his truth hidden forever. 

“Kokichi…” His voice was tender and understanding, reassuring Ouma. “You can tell me. There’s nothing that will change my mind, I promise you.” 

It took a certain amount of willpower not to throw himself into Shuuichi’s arms after that statement. He instead cleared his throat. 

_ Out with it, already.  _

“I have no real proof of this, but I believe she set me up to be assaulted.” Kokichi’s gaze shifted to the floor, no longer able to meet Shuuichi’s eyes. “Whether it was supposed to be sexual or not, I don’t know, but that’s how it ended up.” He couldn’t see his boyfriend’s reaction, but he heard the short gasp he expelled. There was no going back now. “They found me when I was alone at night- A group of guys, asshole jocks. You know the type. They were too strong, and I-” 

He wiped the still-wet trails of tears from his cheeks, as he choked on another sob. He couldn’t bare to hold back anymore. 

“They hurt me, Shuuichi! They hurt me so bad. And they told me I must’ve liked it. They forced me to! I didn’t want it. I didn’t! I hate them! I want them to die! They touched me, and it burned! They made me touch them, and they actually fucking got off on it! They’re sick. They’re the ones who enjoyed it, not me! I didn’t deserve it!” He screamed the words until he felt his throat go raw. He screamed every word into reality. Words that he never thought would come to life. 

“I…” His voice broke down. The heat faded into a comforting ache. “I didn’t deserve it.” He repeated. 

He inhaled and exhaled until he caught his breath. He had said it all; everything he held back for so many years. He had screamed it aloud, naked and crying on the bathroom floor with the love of his life as his witness. 

And he began to laugh. 

The same guilty, uncontrolled laughter that always landed him in trouble. He laughed until it wasn’t funny anymore, as if it ever had been. Yet, a smile remained on his face as he finally met Shuuichi’s gaze once more. 

Tears. That was the first thing he noticed. His boyfriend harshly bit his lip, tears dripping from his face. He looked in pain, too. 

“Kokichi… Can I-” 

“Please…” He whimpered. 

Shuuichi lunged forward, protectively pulling his small frame into his arms. Kokichi had guessed correctly, as he felt the absence of a weight on his chest. Replaced only by Saihara’s incessant squeezing. He could hardly breath as his boyfriend sobbed into his shoulder, running a hand gently through his hair. 

This could never erase what had happened to him, but he realized this was the first step in accepting it. The first step in moving on. 

“We’ll catch them. My uncle is a detective, Kokichi, we’ll definitely-” 

“Shuuichi, calm down. It’s about 8 years too late for that, now. Besides, there’s no proof.” Kokichi explained, his composure returned. Shuuichi’s composure, however, was still at large. 

“It’s not too late! What they did to you… I’ll never forgive it. They must’ve gone to your school, right? We can start the investigation with yearbooks, then! And if you truly think Tsumugi was involved, I can-” 

“Shuuichi.” He groaned, letting his irritation be known. He simply rested his head upon the taller boy’s shoulder. “If you really wanna play detective, I suppose I won’t stop you. But for now… Can we just…?” He trailed off, begging for compliance. 

“You’re right… Sorry.” Shuuichi voice was heavy with guilt. 

Ouma lifted his head to face his boyfriend. He let out a soft sigh as he inched closer. “My beloved, there’s absolutely no reason for you to be sorry. I should be thanking you. It wasn’t a lie when I said I had never told anyone that before. Thank you… For listening.” 

Shuuichi’s eyes grew watery as he listened to Ouma’s heartfelt confession. He closed the gap between them, kissing Kokichi as gently as ever. 

 

 

-

 

 

Night finally fell on what felt like the longest day of his life. Shuuichi had thrown a fit when he had attempted to go to bed with damp hair after finally taking a shower. Once Shuuichi had thoroughly dried and combed his hair, the two of them finally settled down for the night. 

Kokichi stared blissfully at his boyfriend’s sleeping face beside him. Shuuichi was definitely easy on the eyes. He had fallen fast asleep within seconds. Kokichi playfully poked the detective’s face, causing him to wrinkle his nose and brows. It was downright adorable. 

However, as much as he would love to spend all night creeping on his boyfriend while he sleeps, he had something that he had to attend to. 

In truth, he was glad Shuichi had fallen asleep so quickly, and he prodded at his sleeping face with the true intention of testing his alertness. Deciding it was safe to move, he carefully removed himself from the boy’s arms. He cringed as the bed creaked beneath him, stopping to reevaluate Shuuichi’s state every few seconds. 

A sigh of relief escaped him as soon as he found his feet on the floor. He looked back at Shuuichi one last time. He felt a twinge of sadness, going behind his back like this. He told himself it was for the best. 

“I’ll be back, my love.” He whispered. 

Quickly, he slipped on a jacket and some shoes, collecting his phone on the way out of the room. He opened and closed the door with precision, avoiding unnecessary noise. 

Once he was free, he steeled his nerves one last time for what was about to happen. Checking his phone for confirmation, he reread the text he had sent earlier.

_ Today 7:10 pm -  You: Meet me outside around 11~ish tonite? Its important.  _

And of course, the reply. 

_ Today 7:11 pm -  Amami-chan <3: You know I’ll be there.  _

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Kokichi held on to the sleeves of his sweater like his life depended on it as he walked down the empty halls. He chewed relentlessly on his lip. 

He knew what he had to do, but it wasn't going to be easy. Not by a long shot. 

He rounded the last corner, bringing him into the main entrance. The large glass doors stood as the only obstacle in his way. Without hesitation, he continued forward. As he got closer, he noted two things. He couldn’t see Amami-chan outside, and it was raining torrentially. However, he feared if he hesitated for a moment, he would lose his nerve.

He felt cold bite against his skin the moment the doors swung open, followed by a steady onslaught of raindrops. He would be drenched in minutes, but he couldn’t spare a thought for it. He walked a safe distance away from the building before planting himself firmly, beginning his wait. 

It didn’t last long, as Rantaro had managed to sneak behind him, lowering himself to deliver an enthusiastic “Boo!” into his ear. Kokichi shrieked, whipping around to assault his friend with a swift chop to the head. 

Amami let out a carefree laugh. Between the rain soaking his clothes and the bruise underneath his eye, his expression looked completely out of place. Ouma only wished he could preserve that smile forever. 

“Amami-chan, what the hell…” He muttered grumpily. 

“What, is it a crime to be happy to see you?” Rantaro’s tilted his head, still only inches away. Kokichi’s heart stuttered, and he fought the urge to push him away. “‘Cause if so…” His thoughts trailed off, ending with a concise shrug. A silence overtook them. Kokichi wasn’t sure where to start. 

Instead, Rantaro began,

“Hey, remember that one time back in high school? It was raining buckets, just like this, and we just challenged each other to a dance-off in the middle of the road?” Rantaro began to ramble. Kokichi raised an eyebrow at him. He most certainly did remember, but it was not at all what he needed to be focusing on now… “I think the best part was that neither of us could even dance for shit. It was so much fun though.” The small boy felt himself being pulled into the familiar memory, stifling a smirk at the cringeworthy scene playing through his mind. “We should do it again…” Rantaro suggested. 

Kokichi crossed his arms, shaking his head. “No, Rantaro, that’s not what I- Ah! Hey!” He tripped over himself as Rantaro grabbed his hands, pulling him further away from his objective. He looked up at Rantaro with offense, only to be met with a knowing gaze. 

_ Is he…? _

He dropped his frustrations instantly, allowing himself to be lead forward into a clumsy waltz. 

“Sorry, I forgot about your ankle. I’ll go slow.” 

And he did. He tentatively placed one of Kokichi’s hands on his waist, grasping the other firmly as he began to lull them into a rhythm. He pushed back gently, pulled him forward, and lead him cautiously. Kokichi refused eye contact, but allowed him to rest a hand on the small of his back as they danced. 

He felt the urge to protest suppressed by how utterly peaceful he felt like this. They continued to sway, somewhat awkwardly, for some time. He felt himself getting carried away before, finally, he regained sight of his goal. 

“Rantaro… You already know I didn’t come here to practice my dancing.” His eyes bored into the taller boy’s collarbones, slick with rain. He couldn’t bring himself to look anywhere else. Rantaro didn’t question him. 

“Well, you definitely need it.” 

“Not my fault I have a busted up ankle. It’s like having  _ three _ left feet, dude.” Rantaro chuckled lightheartedly as Kokichi, true to his word, stumbled over his footing. He lurched forward, caught by Rantaro’s quick reflexes. The sudden closeness broke the spell he hadn’t realized he was under. He pushed himself away from his friend, ending their reminiscent dance as abruptly as it had begun. 

“Rantaro,  _ seriously.”  _

Rantaro’s smile faded. “‘Serious’ is right. This isn’t like you, Kokichi. You never call me Rantaro, anyways.” An edge of hostility found its way into Rantaro’s voice. Normally, Kokichi would bite back, but his conscience wouldn’t let him make this any more painful than it had to be for his best friend. He owed him that much. 

“You already know why I called you out here, don’t you?” He asked, but it wasn’t really a question. 

Rantaro shrugged. “I know you won’t look me in the eyes. That’s about it.” 

As if challenged, Kokichi immediately locked gazes with the taller boy. He reeled at the sight. The boy’s mouth was forced into a grin, even as his eyes wavered with dejection. The truth was already behind them, threatening to break his facade. He looked as if barely hanging by a thread as the rain slipped down his skin. He felt a stab in his chest as Rantaro’s eyes begged Kokichi to lie to him. 

But he refused. 

“Come on. Let’s just dance, Kokichi.” He offered a hand, his voice tense, pleading. He felt the knife in chest twist. His thoughts were confirmed, that Rantaro was just delaying the inevitable.

“Stop changing the subject, Rantaro.” He watched as his friend’s hand felt back to his side, limp. His smile was gone, only indignation remaining.  

Rantaro chewed his lower lip. “We can go back to my room and watch movies. There’s this new series-” 

“Rantaro!” Kokichi began to ball his fists. Rantaro was just blatantly ignoring him now. 

“Can’t we just-” Rantaro refused to give in, and Kokichi felt his blood turn to ice. 

“I slept with Shuuichi, okay!?” 

He cut him off with vicious force, feeling the ice in his veins immediately begin to sear. Realized hit him hard, and not even the cold rain could quell the burning of his skin. He had promised himself he wouldn’t lash out here, and now...

“Oh, God… Rantaro, I…” Kokichi stared wide-eyed at the taller boy. His heart sunk as he watched his expression fall to a numb composure. 

“...I see.” Rantaro droned. 

“No! You don’t see, okay? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that, I-” 

“What does it even matter?” Rantaro spat. “I was just a tool for you to use at your disposal. I knew you just wanted to make Saihara jealous. I served my purpose, so what does it matter how I’m feeling now?” 

_ No… No!  _

Rantaro’s cold words left him frozen, helpless as Rantaro knelt to the ground in front of him. His breath hitched as he held his hand, placing a kiss to the back. 

“You know… I would always do anything for you, Kokichi. I’m glad… I was of use to you.”

Before he could speak, an announced presence made itself known to both of them 

“Kokichi!” The voice made him jump. 

Why was Shuuichi here? Why now? 

The grip on his hand tightened, and his heart began to race. 

“Shuuichi, leave!” Ouma cried out, panic in his voice. 

“What?” Shuuichi called back to him, concern ridden in his voice. The detective looked a disheveled mess, as if he had just jumped out of bed and thrown on the nearest clothes before running outside. The detective began to come closer, and Rantaro rose from the muddy ground he had knelt on. Kokichi missed his expression as he turned to face Saihara. He had, perhaps unintentionally, made himself a roadblock between the two of them. 

“No… It’s fine.” Amami’s voice had a calmness to it that made the hairs on his neck stand up. 

“What’s going on?” Shuuichi approached Ouma as closely as he could before the taller boy wouldn’t let him go any further. Ouma felt his pulse beating throughout his body as the two boys stood face to face. Though Amami stood a few inches taller than Shuuichi, the detective looked utterly unaffected. 

“Let me through.” Shuuichi demanded.

“Why? Don’t wanna talk to me?” Rantaro smiled at him, feigning innocence. 

“Listen, Amami, you need to back off. Kokichi and I-” 

“Kokichi, huh?” Rantaro snorted. “Calm down, I already know you two fucked. There’s nothing I can do about it. I won’t stop him from doing what he wants. But let me get something straight with you…” 

Shuuichi was taken aback, but allowed Rantaro to continue with an air of distrust. His eyes flickered to Kokichi, who could offer him no solace as he cast his eyes downward. Rantaro took the liberty to continue. 

“If you want to take Kokichi from me, you can never leave his side… And if you ever hurt him…” Rantaro inched closer to Shuuichi, but if the detective was afraid, he refused to show it on his face. “I’ll kill you.” 

“Rantaro!” Ouma was disturbed by the words, knowing the weight they carried when it came to Rantaro’s protectiveness. 

“Deal.” Shuuichi didn’t hesitate. “Though, I would never hurt him. Not on purpose.” 

“But you already have.” Rantaro retorted, voice growing lower. 

“And you think you  _ haven’t?” _ Shuuichi responded indignantly. 

Kokichi cursed his boyfriend’s boldness. Everything that could’ve possibly been said between the two of them had already been said. There was only one other way they could release the tension that boiled over. 

“What do you know!?” Amami wound his fist back, with every intention to strike at the boy before him. Shuuichi could only cover his face with his forearms before the impact.

“Augh!” A voice cried out in pain as the punch connected. 

However, the voice was not Saihara’s. 

Saihara gasped as Ouma’s body flew back against his own, sending them both to the ground. 

“Kokichi!” Saihara cried desperately. The small boy’s face throbbed underneath his eye, where he had absorbed the blow intended for Shuuichi. He felt himself go weak, but Saihara’s arms supported him. 

“Amami!” Saihara growled, his face twisted with ferocity Ouma hadn’t known he was capable of. His grip on Ouma tightened, and he began to stand. Ouma only pulled at the fabric of his shirt, begging him to stay. 

“Please… Just, stop.” Ouma sighed. “Please… Stop fighting. Both of you mean so much to me, I just- I can't stand it anymore!” Pain tore at his face and his heart as tears welled up in his eyes, and he felt Saihara loosen up. 

He heard the sound of something hitting the wet ground with a splash. Amami fell onto his knees, a look of disbelief on his teary-eyed face. 

“Kokichi… Why? I- I’m so sorry, oh God…” His voice broke down as he stared at his unclenching fist. 

Ouma began to remove himself from his boyfriend’s arms, making his way over to his best friend. He knelt beside him, picking his face back up with the palms of his hands. For that moment, it was just the two of them. Shuuichi cautiously backed away to give them space.

“I won’t say it’s okay…” Kokichi met his eyes, both with hot tears stinging their vision. “But, I kind of deserved it… To be fair.” He snickered through his falling tears. Rantaro’s face only twisted in guilt. He bit down hard on his lip, producing a drop of crimson. He shook his head violently. 

“No… I should’ve never… I’m sorry, I couldn't control myself. It’s all my fault. I never wanted you to get hurt.” He sobbed.

“But you wanted Shuuichi to get hurt, right?” 

He only began to sob harder. Kokichi gaped as he realized he was truly watching his best friend break down for the first time. He squeezed Rantaro’s face comfortingly. He wouldn’t forgive him for trying to hurt Shuuichi, but he couldn’t let him go through this alone. He knew what that felt like. 

Rantaro’s breathing began to heave, and he grasped at Kokichi’s wrists as if trying to cement himself to reality. He wept on, and Kokichi had no plans to stop him. He knew Rantaro was hurting more than anyone else right now; even more than his own face hurt. 

“Kokichi… I don’t want this.” He shook his head, continuously wracked by sobs. Kokichi felt a twinge of guilt. “I don’t want to be like  _ him!”  _ The small boy’s eyes widened as he realized Rantaro was no longer talking about their relationship. 

“It makes me so sick… I-I’m just like him… I hate myself. I can’t control it!” 

Kokichi realized something then. The reason he had never seen Rantaro like this before. He had been holding this back for years. All along, he had been suffering with it alone. 

“Rantaro… Are you talking about… Your dad?” Kokichi questioned. Rantaro’s only response was another sob. 

Kokichi pulled his best friend in close, holding his head against his chest as he continued to cry. 

“Rantaro… Oh, God. I’m such an idiot. I’ve been so selfish. All this time, I never realized… You needed help. I was so stuck on my own issues. I never stopped to think about you.” The words tore him apart as he spoke them. He knew that meant that they were the truth. 

He and Rantaro were never quite as different as he had thought, and that was never clearer than now. 

“Rantaro… I can forgive you for punching me if you can forgive me for being the shittiest friend to ever walk this earth.” Rantaro’s quiet sobbing began to quell, but words seemed to fail him. He responded only by wrapping his arms around the smaller boy and holding him close. Like his life depended on him. 

And they stayed that way for a long time. Shuuichi watched from a distance with sympathetic eyes as the two held each other and cried. The rain began to die down eventually, along with their pain. But they still didn’t move. Even after Kokichi began to lose feeling in his legs, and his breathing shortened from Rantaro’s tight hold, they didn’t dare let go. 

“I’m so sorry… For everything.” Kokichi eventually whispered. 

Rantaro dug his fingers into the wet cloth at Kokichi’s back. 

“I’m sorry, too.” 

Rantaro was the first to pull back, wiping his eyes. When he uncovered his face, Kokichi couldn't help but snort. He focused squarely on the purple bruise underneath Rantaro’s eyes. 

“Hey, we match now!” Rantaro rolled his eyes, but let out a breath of laughter anyways. 

“That’s so not funny.” Yet, Kokichi laughed anyways.

He heard gravel crunching as Shuuichi made his way back over to them. Kokichi had nearly forgotten his boyfriend’s presence, and resisted the urge to tense up as he approached. Shuuichi stopped before them, extending both of his hands outward for the taking. It took both boys on the ground by surprise. 

“You two look absolutely ridiculous.” Shuuichi plainly stated. 

Kokichi realized he was completely right as he took one of his hands, smiling brightly. Rantaro glanced at Shuuichi’s unoccupied hand before looking away. His eyes were filled with remorse. 

“It’s okay. Shuuichi doesn’t bite.” Kokichi urged. Rantaro jumped a bit, embarrassment reddening his face. He glanced back at the hand offered to him, before taking it hesitantly. The detective hoisted both of them up off the ground at once. 

“Now, then, should we go to a hospital?” He casually asked, causing Ouma to reel. 

“No way! I’m beyond sick of hospitals at this point.” 

Shuuichi rolled his eyes. “Well, we at least need to get you dried off… Again. Next time you’re going to run off in the middle of the night, at least leave a note. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

Ouma gave a salute, before being ushered back towards the building by his boyfriend. After a few steps, however, Shuuichi stopped. He turned around, facing Amami-chan. 

“Aren’t you coming?” The detective asked, sounding confused. 

Rantaro let out a sound of surprise, his gaze flickering between the other two. 

“Are you sure you  _ want  _ me to come?” He said, returning his gaze to the ground. 

Saihara smiled. “I’m sure you’ll grow on me. Besides, we can’t just leave you out here.” 

Kokichi smiled without realizing it. Saihara’s immediate acceptance of Amami-chan filled him with relief. Even if they could only tolerate each other for now, it was a step in the right direction. 

“Come on, Amami-chan!” Ouma called out to him. They finally got through to him, it seems. He raised his head and began walking towards the two of them. 

Everything that had just happened began to feel further and further away as the three of them headed back to the dorms in reflective silence. As they walked, Ouma slipped back towards Amami-chan. The taller boy paid him no mind, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. 

“Hey, Amami-chan?” Kokichi’s voice dipped back to a serious tone.

“Yeah?” Amami answered, unsure what to expect. 

“You were never just a tool to me. I just need you to know that.” He sincerely meant it. Amami’s gaze broke, moving to meet with Kokichi’s. He managed a small smile. 

“Thanks.” 

Maybe it would take a while for things to go back to normal after all of this. Weeks, months, maybe even years. Or maybe, they never would. Maybe their old normal would never exist again; hell, maybe that was for the best. 

He could never know what lay ahead on the road he walked, but he knew for sure he would never have to face it alone again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow an entire novel later this crazy journey has finally come to an end. I can't say I'm not excited, as I have many other things I've been wanting to work on for a while now, but I'm so so sooooo grateful for all the love and support for this fic. I've said it many times, but you guys are seriously the best. 
> 
> Every comment and kudos left inspired me to keep going until the very end! So never stop being awesome, guys! <333

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.instagram.com/vriskabby/
> 
> http://vriskabby.tumblr.com/


End file.
